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THIS  COPT   OF   "SALMON   FISHING   ON  THE 

GRAND  CASCAPEDIA"  is  ONE  OF  AN 

EDITION  OF  ONE  HUNDRED  COPIES 

PRINTED  ON  IMPERIAL  JAPAN 

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SALMON-FISHING  ON  THE 
GRAND  CASCAPEDIA 


\   1 


SALMON-FISHING  ON  THE 
GRAND  CASCAPEDIA 


BY 

EDMUND  W.  DAVIS 


PRINTED  FOR  PRIVATE   DISTRIBUTION 
1904 


Copyright,  1904,  by 
EOMUVD  W.  DATU 


TO  MY  WIFE 

WHOSE  GENTLENESS  AND  SWEET  MANNER 
ADD  CHARM  TO  THE  CAMP 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Salmon-fishing  on  the  Grand  Cascapedia  ...  3 

The  River          .                         6 

The  Rod 10 

The  Reel 13 

The  Line 15 

The  Flies .17 

The  Leaders,  or  Casts 25 

The  Clothes 28 

The  Casting 31 

The  Fishing 42 

Hooking  the  Salmon 55 

Changing  Flies 60 

The  Weather 67 

The  Logs 71 

The  Salmon 78 

The  Runs  and  Varieties 83 

The  Rises 86 

Do  Salmon  Heart 90 

The  Kelts .95 

The  Rocks         ...                ....  97 

vii 


MM 

A  Trip  to  Red  Camp 99 

The  Second  Day 1 1  L' 

The  Third  Day 128 

The  Fourth  Day       .  138 

Three  Weeks  Later 141 

The  Club  Water .146 

Conclusion  ....  l.YJ 


viii 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

A  Favorite  Place Frontispiece 

Running  down  from  Lazy  Bogan  .         r***gi»9*      8 

Killing  a  Salmon  at  Lazy  Bogan         .        .        .        .10 

Flies 18 

Flies 20 

Flies 22 

Limestone  Pool 32 

Lower  Part  of  Limestone 52 

Her  First  Forty-four-pound  Salmon    .        .        .        .76 

The  Fifty-two-pound  Salmon 78 

Red  Camp 100 

Guarding  Salmon 102 

Our  Canoemen 106 

Suffolk  Mixer 114 

Two  Days'  Fishing 124 

The  Cascapedia  Club-house  in  the  Distance        .        .  128 

Red  Camp  Pool 136 

Harrison,  the  River-goddess,  and  William         .        .  142 

The  Slide 150 

ix 


SALMON-FISHING 


SALMON-FISHING  ON  THE 
GRAND  CASCAPEDIA 

HAVE  been  asked  so  many  times  to 
write  my  experience  as  regards  salmon- 
fishing  that  perhaps  these  few  lines 
may  be  of  benefit  to  friends  who  are 
learning  the  grand  art,  and  of  some  interest  to 
those  who  are  already  accomplished  in  it — for  an 
art  it  surely  is. 

I  advise  all  who  intend  taking  up  salmon-fishing 
to  read  Dr.  Weir  Mitchell's  book,  "  When  All  the 
Woods  Are  Green."  It  is  a  delightful  story,  and 
has  a  chapter  or  two  on  salmon-killing.  But  as 
all  of  us  may  not  have  a  companion  so  charming 
on  our  fishing  trips  as  the  hero  of  this  book,  we 
will  content  ourselves  here  with  the  killing  of  the 
fish.  The  part  of  the  book  which  appeals  to  me 
most  strongly  is  the  dedication : 

THE  FRIEND  OF  MANY  YEARS, — 
THE  COMPANION  OF  MANY  SUMMERS. 

Who  but  a  lover  of  nature  and  a  keen  sportsman 
would  have  thought  of  the  few  words  so  lovingly 

3 


expressed — "The  Companion  of  Many  Summers"! 
Surely  they  must  have  reminded  him  of  the  days 
and  nights  they  had  passed  together  on  some 
grand  old  river  in  the  forests  of  Canada — tin* 
shooting  of  the  rapids,  the  camp-fires  at  night,  the 
life  in  the  woods,  all  of  which  go  to  make  up  that 
indescribable  something  which  all  true  sportsmen 
love.  I  have  often  thought,  as  I  stood  by  my  camp- 
fire  and  gazed  at  the  stars  through  the  clear  atmo- 
sphere of  the  Northern  skies,  how  few  persons 
there  are  who  know  the  great  happiness  there  is 
in  the  solitude  of  a  life  in  the  wilderness.  Here 
one  sees  the  swift,  icy  brooks  tumbling  down  from 
the  lakes  which  lie  amid  the  green-clad  hills  stretch- 
ing far  away  to  the  north — the  little  brooks  which 
are  torrents  in  spring,  and  go  to  make  up  tlu> 
mighty  Cascapedia,  far-famed  for  its  lordly  salmon. 
They,  too,  love  the  river;  for  do  they  not  come  each 
year  and  go  far  to  the  head  waters  to  seek  the  quiet 
pools  whose  banks  are  lined  with  the  sweet-scented 
linnroa,  where  undisturbed  they  can  whisper  to  each 
other  their  tales  of  love  f 

I  remember  one  day,  as  I  was  going  up  the  i 
to  take  my  turn  at  certain  pools,  I  saw  the  doctor 
sitting  in  his  canoe,  reading  a  book.  As  I  ap- 
proached him  he  shmr  Hello,  Davis!  Any 
luckf"  I  told  him  I  had  not  fished,  but  was 
on  my  way  to  Middle  Camp.  "  I  hope  you  have 
had  some  sport  f " 

4 


"No,"  he  replied;  "it  is  too  clear.  Am  waiting 
till  later  in  the  day.  But  what  does  it  matter  T  Is 
it  not  grand  out  on  the  river  T  Look  at  the  leaves 
on  the  trees  —  how  they  glisten  !  What  beautiful 
shades !  One  never  gets  tired  here ;  there  is  so 
much  to  see.  How  peaceful  and  restful  it  all 
seems  ! "  And  he,  though  getting  no  salmon,  was 
content  passing  his  time  in  studying  the  life  of  the 
forest  and  the  different  objects  about  him,  all  of 
which  help  to  form  the  true  angler.  My  advice  to 
all  is  to  follow  in  his  footsteps. 


THE  RIVER 

iAR  away  in  the  wilderness  of  Quebec 
lies  a  still  and  placid  sheet  of  water 
whose  surface  is  often  disturbed  by 
salmon  fortunate  in  having  reached 
this  quiet  and  peaceful  resting-place.  A  stream 
named  the  Lake  Branch  flows  from  this  lake  a  dis- 
tance of  eighteen  miles  before  joining  its  com- 
panion (the  Salmon  Branch),  whose  source  is 
many  miles  farther  north.  The  meeting  of  these 
two  waters  is  the  beginning  of  the  Cascapedia,  but 
as  it  rushes  onward  to  the  sea  many  cold  little 
brooks  add  their  tribute.  At  the  junction  of  these 
branches  is  the  celebrated  pool  called  uThe 
Forks  " ;  here,  in  July,  one  can  usually  see  many 
salmon  resting.  From  this  same  pool,  after  two 
o'clock  in  the  day,  I  beached  fourteen  fish,  keeping 
only  five  of  the  largest:  the  rest,  after  my  man 
had  removed  the  hook,  were  held  under  water 
with  their  heads  up-stream  until  they  were  able  to 
resist  the  current ;  then  a  slight  poke  in  the  side 
sent  them  darting  away  as  lively  as  when  rushing 

6 


for  the  fly.  These  salmon  were  from  sixteen  to 
thirty-five  pounds  in  w«M«jht. 

A  short  distance  below"  The  Forks  "  the  river 
forms  another  good  pool  where  one  is  sure  of 
many  rises.  "  Lazy  Bogan  w  —  perhaps  the  most 
famous  part  of  the  river  —  is  a  narrow  stretch 
flowing  through  a  flat  country,  and  a  fine  place  for 
salmon.  One  day  on  this  water,  casting  from  the 
shore,  I  took  thirteen  fish,  returning  seven.  But 
I  do  not  consider  it  much  sport  to  kill  salmon 
in  these  pools.  The  river  is  narrow ;  it  is  their 
breeding-ground:  and  here  they  should  be  left 
undisturbed. 

The  Cascapedia  Club,  which  controls  the  rights 
with  the  exception  of  about  fifteen  miles  from  the 
mouth,  now  very  wisely  prohibits  fishing  on  this 
part,  keeping  it  entirely  for  breeding  purposes. 
After  leaving  Lazy  Bogan  the  country  becomes 
more  interesting,  aud  as  you  approach  Indian 
Falls  the  river,  running  swiftly,  forms  large,  deep 
pools;  huge  mountains  rising  from  the  water's 
edge  make  the  scenery  most  picturesque.  There 
is  a  bit  of  danger  while  running  the  falls,  owing 
to  the  many  sunken  rocks  just  below  the  surface 
whose  tops  are  invisible ;  but  with  good  canoe- 
men  one  usually  passes  in  safety.  From  the  falls 
down  to  the  settlement  is  one  continuous  panorama 
of  beautiful  scenes ;  and  the  river,  having  such  a 
tremendous  drop  from  its  source  to  the  mouth,  is 

7 


one  of  the  swiftest  and  most  interesting  in  all 
Canada  to  the  angler. 

The  Cascapedia  Club-house,  situated  on  a  knoll 
surrounded  by  mountains,  is  most  charmingly 
located.  From  the  piazza  there  is  a  delightful 
view  of  the  country,  and  salmon  may  be  seen 
leaping  in  the  pools  below.  Opposite  is  the  Escu- 
minac,  a  small  river  flowing  into  the  Cascapedia, 
Formerly  it  contained  many  salmon,  but  saw- 
mills, nets,  and  spears  have  done  their  work  of 
extermination,  and  now  it  is  impossible  for  a  fish 
to  run  up  the  stream,  owing  to  a  dam  having  been 
built  across. 

Eight  miles  above  the  club-house  is  a  three-rod 
station,  and  at  sixteen  miles  accommodation  for 
two ;  so  the  few  members  are  not  crowded  in  their 
fishing.  From  the  club-house  to  the  second  sta- 
tion is  one  wild,  magnificent  sight:  high  moun- 
tains, long  stretches  of  swiftly  running  water  ter- 
minating in  dark  pools,  the  rapids,  and  the  sweet 
littl"  flowers  nestling  at  the  water's  edge,  make  a 
picture  of  loveliness  which  is  moat  beautiful  and 
dear  to  the  angler. 

Among  the  few  fishing  lodges  scattered  along 
the  banks  of  the  remaining  part  of  the  riv»  r  is 
the  Princess  Louise  Cottage,  now  owned  by  Mr. 
Barnes,  of  Boston,  who  controls  some  very  good 
water,  including  a  part  of  the  celebrated  Princess 
Pool  The  river  is  well  guarded,  and  if  protection 

8 


i;i  \\i\(,    DOWN-    FROM    LA/Y   IJ- 


is  continued  the  number  of  salmon  should  increase 
yearly.    May  their  numbers  never  be  less ! 

For  thirteen  summers  the  Grand  Cascapedia  has 
been  my  home.  Each  year  it  grows  dearer  and 
dearer,  and  my  only  thought  during  the  long 
winter  months  shall  always  be,  "  Will  spring  ever 
come,  so  that  I  may  again  visit  this  restful  home 
in  the  Northern  woods  Tw  Such  a  beautiful 
country  is  not  an  accident.  God  must  have  cre- 
ated this  wonderful  wilderness,  where  all  is  happi- 
ness, where  all  is  peace. 


9 


THE  BOD 

TAPERING  piece  of  wood  as  delicate 
in  appearance  and  bending  as  easily  as 
some  tall,  slight  reed  gently  swayed  by 
the  winds.  No  wonder  we  love  to  ca- 
ress and  fondle  it,  for  has  it  not  proved  a  stanch 
and  true  friend  on  many  trying  occasions  f 

In  selecting  a  rod, please  bear  in  mind  that  I  am 
suggesting  one  for  Canadian  rivers  only.  For 
fishing  the  waters  of  Ireland  and  Scotland  a 
longer  and  stiffer  rod  is  required,  as  I  believe  most 
<»t  tho  casting  is  from  the  shore;  bat  not  having 
had  any  personal  experience  on  these  rivers,  I  am 
not  prepared  to  offer  any  advice.  For  my  own 
fishing  I  prefer  fifteen  feet  of  the  best  greenheart, 
spliced  at  the  centre  only.  The  tip  should  be  a 
little  stiffer  and  the  butt  a  trifle  smaller  than  one 
usually  sees  in  a  salmon-rod.  If  the  rod  is  prop- 
erly made  it  will  bend  like  a  piece  of  steel  from 
butt  to  tip  while  playing  the  salmon.  Notice  how 
beautifully  it  bends  backward  and  forward  when 
you  make  the  cast — no  doubling  of  the  tip,  only  a 
slight  curve  as  the  line  is  thrown  back ;  then,  by  a 
quick  and  gentle  turn  of  the  wrists,  it  springs  for- 

10 


Kll.l.iv  i  M,,\     \;  I;.H,\\ 

(In  this  pirtiin-  I  hav.-  i.>wt-n-»l  m\   r<><l  and  inn  pulling  side- 
ways at  the   flsh.     A  to    lurn    ;i   Htilkin_'   *alim>iio 


•ft  •'« 


ward,  sending  the  line  straight  as  an  arrow,  while 
the  fly,  falling  softly,  alights  like  a  snowflake  on 
the  water.  With  a  rod  of  this  description  one  can 
lift  his  line  much  easier,  with  less  exertion,  and  has 
better  control.  Dalzell,  of  St.  John,  New  Bruns- 
wick, is  a  good  workman,  and  turns  these  rods  out 
well.  Of  course  there  is  difference  of  opinion; 
but  I  have  had  greater  pleasure  with  a  rod  of  this 
kind  than  with  many  another  I  have  tried.  When 
the  water  is  high  and  one  is  not  obliged  to  be  too 
^articular  as  regards  his  casts,  almost  any  rod  will 
answer;  but  in  low,  clear  water,  when  the  wily 
old  kings  are  shy  and  it  is  hard  to  entice  them, 
then  the  best  weapon  is  required.  Some  prefer  a 
light  rod  and  others  a  heavy  one,  but  the  principle 
should  be  the  same  in  both. 

The  Forrest  rod,  made  in  Scotland,  is  very  pop- 
ular among  American  anglers,  although  I  find  it 
too  supple  at  the  tip  and  too  stiff  at  the  butt. 
The  split  bamboo  has  found  favor  in  the  eyes  of 
many,  but  my  experience  with  it  has  not  been 
satisfactory.  I  know  a  little  woman  —  and  a  clever 
angler,  too  —  who  may  be  seen  every  year,  during 
the  months  of  June  and  July,  casting  her  fly  as 
gracefully  and  killing  her  fish  as  quickly  with  her 
little  cane  rod  as  any  old  veteran  of  the  sport,  and 
I  am  told  this  same  rod  has  to  its  credit  a  hundred 
or  more  salmon.  Of  course,  nothing  pleases  this 
little  lady  but  the  split  bamboo. 

11 


When  fishing  from  a  canoe,  a  fifteen-foot  rod  is 
long  enough  —  even  fourteen  feet  will  answer,  but 
I  do  not  advise  using  one  of  a  shorter  length,  be- 
cause with  a  very  short  rod  you  have  no  control  of 
either  fish  or  line.  I  have  tried  one  of  ten  feet, 
but  it  gave  me  no  sport,  for  I  was  continually 
chasing  the  fish  up  and  down  the  river  before  tir- 
ing him  sufficiently  for  the  gaff. 

I  have  heard  of  salmon  being  taken  on  a  six- 
ounce  trout-rod,  and  the  reel  holding  no  more 
than  twenty-five  yards  of  line.  It  sounds  like  a 
fairy  tale,  but  any  one  who  can  throw  a  good  fly  and 
is  fortunate  enough  to  have  the  salmon  remain  in  1 1  it- 
same  pool  can  easily  accomplish  the  feat ;  however, 
should  the  fish  decide  to  go  back  to  his  beautiful 
sea,  he  is  likely  to  carry  everything  with  him.  As 
this  style  of  angling  is  a  question  of  luck  rather 
than  of  skill,  I  do  not  think  it  should  be  practised 
by  the  salmon-angler. 


12 


THE  EEEL 

•HIS  piece  of  workmanship  is  dear  to  all 
anglers ;  for  does  it  not  day  after  day 
merrily  sing  its  melodious  songs  T  And 
the  louder  it  sings  the  sweeter  its  notes, 
for  we  know  then  that  its  welcome  voice  will  soon 
cease,  having  lulled  to  sleep  one  of  the  wakeful 
spirits  of  the  deep. 

One  cannot  be  too  particular  concerning  the  reel. 
It  should  be  large  enough  to  hold  seventy  yards 
of  good,  strong  bass-line  and  fifty  yards  of  salmon- 
line,  which  must  be  spliced  with  the  bass-line. 

I  use  the  Vom  Hofe1  reels  only,  as  I  have  always 
found  them  to  keep  in  excellent  running  order, 
and  in  many  years  of  fishing  I  have  never  had  an 
over-run.  Should  a  salmon,  rushing  down  the 
rapids,  suddenly  stop,  and  an  over-run  take  place, 
good-by,  Mr.  Salmon !  if  he  is  seized  again  with 
the  same  desire  to  continue  his  mad  career.  One 
good  feature  about  the  reel  is,  you  can  alter  the 
tension  of  the  drag ;  and  when  small  flies  are  used 

i  Edward  Vom  Hofe,  Fulton  Street,  New  York. 

13 


it  is  better  to  do  this,  for  with  a  lighter  tension  the 
fly  is  less  liable  to  pull  out,  and  that  would  be 
disappointing. 

The  reel  should  be  held  by  a  plate  fastened 
to  the  rod  not  more  than  six  or  six  and  a  half 
inches  from  the  lower  end  of  the  butt.  If  it  is 
placed  any  higher,  one  would  be  obliged  to  reach 
farther  to  grasp  the  rod  above  the  reel  This 
would  naturally  cause  the  body  to  bend  forward, 
making  an  awkward  position  for  the  angler  and  at 
the  same  time  tiring  the  right  arm.  The  reel, 
when  casting,  should  be  beneath  the  rod,  with  tin- 
handle  to  the  left,  for  in  this  position  it  balances 
the  rod  better ;  but  when  playing  the  fish  always 
reverse  the  position,  bringing  the  reel  on  top  of 
the  rod,  with  the  handle  to  the  right. 

There  are  many  good  salmon-reels  of  different 
makes  and  of  a  much  cheaper  grade  than  the  one 
above  mentioned.  As  I  see  many  anglers  using 
them,  they  evidently  answer  the  purpose ;  but  not 
having  tried  any,  I  can  only  vouch  for  the  Vom 
Hofe.  One  should  always  have  the  reel  well  filled, 
as  it  runs  much  better ;  and  do  not  fail  occasionally 
to  put  a  drop  or  two  of  oil  on  the  bearing;  by 
so  doing  the  reel  will  last  longer  and  give  better 
satisfaction.  Al»«»\vall  things,  k«-,.p  tho  n-H  rl.-an  ; 
a  <lirty  reel  reflects  upon  the  angler  as  a  rusty 
gun  on  the  sportsman. 


14 


THE  LINE 

'HE  line  should  be,  as  I  have  just  said, 
one  hundred  and  twenty  yards  in  total 
length.  One  may  use  the  whole  sal- 
mon-line, but  this  is  unnecessary,  as 
the  one  for  bass  does  just  as  well  to  help  fill  up  the 
reel ;  besides,  it  has  not  so  much  resistance  in  the 
water.  When  the  river  is  high,  any  dark-colored 
salmon-line  of  medium  size  will  do,  either  tapered 
or  not,  as  one  prefers.  My  experience  has  been 
that  both  cast  equally  well.  In  low,  clear  water  I 
am  confident  one  will  be  more  successful  using  a 
small  black  line,  as  it  attracts  less  attention  than 
one  of  lighter  color,  and  is  not  so  apt  to  disturb 
the  fish.  This  is  a  much-disputed  question  among 
anglers,  but  as  I  have  been  very  successful  with 
the  small  black  line,  I  certainly  should  advise  its 
use.  It  is  rather  difficult  to  see  while  playing  the 
fish  as  they  dart  toward  the  shore  in  the  shade  of 
the  trees,  and  especially  when  fishing  at  night; 
but  one  should  be  able  to  forgive  this  fault  if  it 
brings  better  success. 

15 


I  have  seen  salmon  killed  late  in  the  season 
with  a  line  almost  white  and  large  enough  to  kill 
a  codfish.  This  will  sometimes  happen,  bnt  I  am 
quite  sure  the  person  who  accomplished  the  feat 
was  born  under  a  lucky  star.  I  beg  my  friends 
not  to  try  it ;  it  is  not  clean  fishing,  it  is  not 
correct  fishing.  I  have  also  seen  a  person  fishing 
salmon  with  a  book  in  one  hand,  an  umbrella  over 
the  shoulders,  and  the  rod  resting  on  the  knees, 
evidently  waiting  for  a  nibble ;  strange  to  say,  the 
nibble  came,  the  salmon  was  hooked  and  killed. 
This  happened  in  one  of  my  best  pools,  and  pre- 
vious to  the  landing  of  this  eccentric  fish  the  pool 
had  been  whipped  by  a  person  well  up  in  the  art 
without  any  result  It  only  goes  to  show  that 
sometimes  salmon  have  whims,  like  ourselves: 
coax  them,  and  they  wont ;  let  them  alone, 
and  they  will. 

When  you  have  finished  the  day's  fishing, 
always  dry  the  line.  This  prevents  its  heating 
and  will  make  it  last  longer.  Do  not  wind  it 
around  metal,  as  this  is  liable  to  crack  the  enamel 
and  weaken  the  line  in  spots.  Large  round 
wooden  pegs  are  the  best  Once  I  lost  thirty  feet 
of  new  line  —  and  with  it  a  large  salmon  —  by 
leaving  it  to  dry  overnight  on  a  rusty  nail ;  I  have 
since  become  wiser. 


16 


THE  FLIES 

>HESE  beautiful  specimens  of  crafts- 
man's art,  composed  of  feathers 
brought  from  the  jungles  of  India  and 
the  deep  forests  of  the  tropics,  are 
no  doubt  the  most  important  part  of  our  out- 
fit. How  seductive  these  little  feathers,  both 
gaudy  and  sombre,  must  be  as  they  are  drawn 
across  the  pool  to  lead  to  destruction  the  wise  old 
fellows  resting  so  quietly  beneath !  Indeed,  they 
are  equally  seductive  to  us  —  for  do  we  not,  as  we 
are  about  to  leave  the  shop  (having  said  good-by  to 
them),  hesitate,  and  return  to  gaze  fondly  again 
upon  their  beauty  I  We  buy  more,  when  we  do  not 
need  them;  like  the  salmon,  we  have  gazed  once 
too  often  and  are  taken  at  last.  This  fate  always 
happens  to  me  —  and  I  suppose  I  shall  continue, 
year  after  year,  to  be  led  astray  by  the  spell  of 
these  fascinating  and  hypnotic  allurements. 

When  buying  your  flies,  be  sure  that  the  point 
of  the  hook  is  nearly  upright.  If  it  inclines  too 
much  toward  the  shank,  as  many  do,  and  espe- 
cially the  No.  4  and  No.  6  double,  it  will  not  hook 
the  fish  as  well,  and  is  more  liable  to  tear  out.  It 

17 


is  a  good  plan  to  bend  the  small-size  hooks  a  little 
so  the  points  will  turn  out ;  I  find  by  so  doing  fewer 
fish  are  lost 

The  flies  made  by  Forrest  &  Sons,  Kelso,  Scot- 
land, are  generally  used,  and  it  is  best  to  import 
them  direct  from  their  house.  They  are  beautifully 
tied,  and  we  seldom  hear  of  the  hook  pulling  out. 
I  have  seen  this  happen,  but  not  often ;  in  one  in- 
stance, when  a  friend  of  mine  was  playing  a  very 
large  fish,  the  line  suddenly  came  back  with  only 
the  loop  attached  to  the  leader.  It  would  be  very 
annoying  to  have  it  occur  just  as  you  are  playing 
the  largest  salmon  you  have  ever  seen ;  but  some- 
times accidents  will  happen,  however  careful  one 
may  be.  Always  examine  closely  the  loop  before 
attaching  the  fly  to  the  leader,  especially  if  the  fly 
has  been  used  for  some  time,  for  by  continued  use 
the  loop  becomes  frail  and  the  fish  is  apt  to  break 
away.  I  have  taken  many  fish  which  would  have 
been  lost  had  I  not  first  carefully  examined  my 
leader  and  fly.  It  is  a  very  simple  thing  to  do,  and 
requires  only  a  little  time;  yet  how  many  anglers 
there  are  who  neglect  to  take  this  precaution,  but 
leave  the  work  for  others ! 

The  flies  generally  used  are  the  Jock  Scott,  Sil- 
ver Gray,  Silver  Doctor,  Black  Dose,  Dusty  Mill«-r, 
and  Silver  Jock  Scott1  These  are  the  standard 

>  The  lower  part  of  the  body  of  the  SUrer  Jock  Seott  to  covered 
with  silver  tinsel ;  otherwise  the  Jock  Seott  and  the  Silver  Joek 
Seott  are  identical. 

18 


Ml.\  1.1; 


AY  6/0 


Si  I  \  1  i;   (.1:  \V    Ni..  «;   DOUBLE 


NOTE 


The  flies  on  the  following  plate*  are  not 
the  samplea,  inasmuch  aa  they  si 
the  end  of  some  of  the  feather*. 
chanlcal  difflcultie«  of  the  three-o 


This  is  MPtai  t..  ui,- 


i  .mi  t.'i.i.  be  avoided.  Otherwise  they  are  good 
representations.  The  Harrison  fly  should  be  gray  in- 
stead of  a  brownish  color. 


files,  and  are  good  on  all  Canadian  waters.  There 
are  innumerable  varieties,  but  the  above  are  quite 
necessary  for  one's  outfit.  It  is  well  to  have  a 
large  assortment,  because  when  the  water  is  low 
salmon  will  very  seldom  in  the  daytime  take  the 
same  fly  which  they  will  rise  to  when  the  river  is 
high  and  muddy;  so  one  should  always  have  on 
hand  different  sizes  of  the  above.  I  have  had  very 
little  success  with  those  smaller  than  No. 6  double. 
Although  I  have  taken  salmon  with  No.  8, 1  do  not 
consider  them  practical ;  they  tear  out  easily  and 
only  hurt  and  lose  fish.  I  am  now  referring  to  the 
Cascapedia,  where  the  salmon  run  very  large.  On 
rivers  where  the  fish  are  smaller  the  No.  8  double 
is  used  successfully ;  but  I  believe  the  No.  6  to  be 
quite  small  enough,  if  properly  landed  in  the  pool. 
My  observation  has  convinced  me  that  a  medium- 
sized  fly  when  cast  by  an  expert  angler  is  more  kill- 
ing than  a  smaller  fly  cast  by  the  same  person.  To 
illustrate  my  theory:  Many  years  ago  I  was  fishing  a 
famous  pool  on  the  Cascapedia ;  it  was  late  in  the 
season ;  as  the  water  was  low  and  clear,  I  used  a 
very  small  fly.  I  noticed  that  one  of  the  canoemen 
was  watching  my  casts  most  intently,  and  as  I  kept 
pegging  away  until  nearly  exhausted,  without  any 
success,  he  finally  remarked:  "I  think  that  if  you 
use  a  larger  fly  and  cast  it  better,  you  will  get  a 
fish."  This  remark  made  me  a  little  weary,  because 
I  thought  I  was  doing  splendidly,  and  to  be  con- 

19 


sidered  a  duffer,  as  he  evidently  thought  me,  was 
most  humiliating.  I  immediately  handed  the  rod 
to  him,  and  said :  "  Now  show  me  what  you  can  do." 

His  eyes  brightened,  his  lips  parted,  and  the  most 
satisfied  grin  I  have  ever  seen  appeared  on  his  face. 
He  at  once  cut  off  the  fly  as  well  as  the  loop  at  th»> 
end  of  the  leader,  pulled  from  his  hat  a  fly, — one 
of  his  own  make,  a  little  larger  but  of  the  same 
pattern  I  had  been  using, —  and  fastened  it  to  the 
leader  by  a  process  which  I  had  not  then  learned, 
but  will  explain  later.  Before  casting  he  allowed 
the  line  to  drift  down  the  river  until  it  had  straight- 
ened itself;  then  up  went  his  arms,  the  rod  ben«  hni: 
gently  backward  and  throwing  the  line  in  a  perfect 
curve,  when  suddenly,  with  a  quick  turn  of  the 
wrists,  the  rod  sprang  forward,  sending  the  fly  diag- 
onally across  the  pool.  It  fell  so  softly  that  it 
hardly  touched  the  water — then  a  whirl,  a  splash, 
a  strike.  "I  've  got  him!"  he  shouted  "I  told 
you  so !  Take  the  rod,"  he  said. 

"No,  thanks;  you  play  him,"  I  replied.  His 
contented  little  grin  at  once  changed  into  one  of 
the  most  fiendish.  There  was  a  fierce  struggle,  the 
fish  was  killed  in  a  short  time,  and  as  he  turned 
toward  me  the  little  grin  reappeared,  so  I  knew  he 
was  happy.  I  was  humiliated,  but  it  really  gave 
me  greater  pleasure  to  see  him  hook  and  kill  that 
tMi  than  to  have  accomplished  the  feat  myself. 
His  knowledge  of  the  manner  in  which  to  place  the 

20 


>  1 1 .  \ 


)IT     I    M 


BLACK  Dosi 


hrs-n    MM.I.KK   1  <» 

J 


fly  so  as  to  tempt  the  fish  was  what  gave  him  suc- 
cess, and  such  knowledge  can  be  acquired  only  by 
close  observation. 

Here  are  the  names  and  sizes  of  the  flies  I  always 
try  to  have  with  me. 


TITY 

NO. 

NAME 

3 

6/0    . 

.    Silver  Gray,  Single 

Hook 

:j    .    . 

5/0    . 

«         «          it 

M 

3    .     . 

4/0    . 

tl               11                  U 

It 

3 

3/0    . 

il                it                   « 

li 

3    .     . 

2/0    . 

U                11                   U 

tt 

3    .     . 

1/0    . 

U               U                  U 

a 

3    .     . 

1 

11            «               « 

it 

6    .     . 

1/0    . 

!    Black  Dose       " 

it 

6    .     . 

1 

it                 tl                        11 

it 

3    .     . 

5/0    . 

.    Steoart              " 

a 

3    .     . 

4/0    . 

H                                   It 

li 

3    .     . 

1/0    . 

.    Dusty  Miller     " 

n 

3    .     . 

1 

tl               U                 ti 

it 

3    .     . 

3/0    . 

.    Jock  Scott         " 

a 

3    .     . 

2/0    . 

a           tt               u 

li 

3    .     . 

1/0    . 

tt           it               it 

it 

3    .     . 

4/0    . 

.    Silver  Jock  Scott,  Single  Hook 

3    .     . 

2/0    . 

n         t<        n 

U                     t( 

3    .     . 

1/0    . 

H              tt             It 

it              it 

6    .     . 

3 

.    Silver  Gray,  Double 

Hook 

6    .     . 

4 

n        a           a 

n 

6    .     . 

6 

it        ii           ti 

tt 

6    .     . 

3 

.    Dusty  Miller       " 

ti 

6    .     . 

4 

t<         a            it 

it 

6    .     . 

6 

n         it            n 

a 

6    .     . 

3 

.    Jock  Scott          " 

it 

6    .     . 

4 

a          tt                 tt 

a 

6    .     . 

6 

ft          tt                 tt 

it 

6    .     . 

2        . 

.    Black  Dose         " 

a 

6    .     . 

3 

it        n            a 

li 

6    .     . 

4 

ti        a            ti 

it 

6    .     . 

6 

it        n            it 

ti 

6    .     . 

4 

.    Tim  Fly 

tl 

6 

6 

n      it                 it 

a 

21 


I  have  never  been  very  successful  with  the  Silver 
Doctor,  although  my  friends  have  taken  many  fish 
with  it ;  I  suppose  the  reason  is,  I  seldom  use  it,  pre- 
ferring the  Silver  Gray.  I  have  killed  some  fish  at 
night  with  a  Silver  Doctor,  when  the  river  was  very 
muddy  and  high,  as  well  as  when  it  was  low  and 
clear;  but  the  Silver  Gray  I  consider  a  much  more 
killing  fly.  I  have  found  a  4/0  white  fly  with  a 
silver  body,  a  golden  pheasant's  crest  feather  for 
the  crest  and  tail,  and  a  very  small  feather  of  th<* 
jungle-cock  added  to  the  wing,  to  be  a  good  one 
at  night  It  is  called  the  Steuart  The  Tim  fly, 
Nos.  4  and  6  double,  with  silver  tinsel  on  black 
body,  dark  brown  wings,  a  small  feather  of  th<> 
jungle-cock,  and  the  tail  a  crest  feather  of  th<» 
golden  pheasant,  is  excellent  for  low  water. 

The  above  were  made  according  to  my  own  idea, 
and  may  be  obtained  from  Forrest  &  Sons.  The 
Nepisiguit  Gray,  No.  4  double,  did  good  work  for 
one  season  —  since  then  I  have  never  taken  a  fish 
with  it;  the  Brown  and  Black  Fairies  are  used 
by  many :  and  so  I  might  add  a  number  of  vari- 
eties; however,  I  shall  leave  them  for  the  angler 
to  discover  as  he  progresses  in  the  art 

There  are  always  a  few  feathers,  a  little  wax, 
and  some  black  and  white  thread  in  my  fly-book, 
because  I  like  to  try  to  imitate  the  flies  wlr 
fl<  >.it  ing  down  the  river.    By  roughly  adding  a  few 
feathers  to  the  body  of  some  worn-out  Forrest  I 


1  I  MM     4/0  II  \KKI80N    3/0 


TIM  FLY  No.  6  DOUBLE 


^ 

BLACK  Dosi:  No.  i  DOI 
*STEUABT  No.  3  DOUBLE 


BROWN  FAIRY  No.  8  DOUBLE 


These  flies  should  have  had  silver  bodiea. 


am  able  to  make  a  rough  imitation,  and  with  a  non- 
descript of  this  kind  I  have  had  good  sport.  Then 
again,  there  is  satisfaction  in  knowing  they  will 
take  one  of  your  own  make.  It  is  amusing,  and  for 
me  it  adds  much  to  the  pleasure  of  fishing. 

One  of  my  canoemen,  James  Harrison,  whom  I 
consider  an  expert  at  salmon-fishing,  ties  good  flies. 
They  are  so  successful  that  he  has  had  many  orders. 
With  one  of  his  Silver  Grays  I  killed  thirteen  fish 
from  twenty  to  thirty-five  pounds.  One  day  when 
Harrison  and  I  were  fishing  at  the  Crib,  the  pool 
seemed  alive  with  salmon,  and  although  none 
would  take  the  fly,  they  would  rush  savagely  for- 
ward at  a  small  Black  Dose,  turning  as  quickly 
as  they  came.  Finally  Harrison  took  a  fly  from 
his  pocket — one  of  his  own  make,  a  Black  Dose, 
No.  1  single.  It  seemed  rather  large  for  the  condi- 
tion of  the  water,  and  looked  more  like  a  good- 
sized  bug.  It  was  put  on  and  cast  forth.  Two 
salmon  started  for  it,  one  about  forty  pounds  and 
the  other,  as  it  proved,  of  twenty-two,  which  was 
hooked  and  killed.  The  next  cast  gave  us  one  of 
thirty-eight  pounds.  We  were  much  surprised  at 
the  result,  because  we  thought  the  water  too  low 
and  clear  for  so  large  a  fly.  This  again  proves 
that  it  is  not  always  the  small  fly  they  wish.  My 
experiences  of  this  kind  have  convinced  me  that 
the  No.  8  double  had  best  be  discarded.  It  would 
be  impossible  to  enumerate  all  the  different  va- 

23 


rieties.  Let  the  beginner  take  those  I  have  men- 
tioned, and  I  am  quite  sure  they  will  be  all  that  he 
needs. 

Large  flies  are  not  always  necessary  early  in  the 
season,  because  sometimes  the  river,  although  high 
at  this  time,  is  quite  clear,  and  then  medium  sizes 
are  better.  I  cannot,  of  course,  tell  my  readers 
the  best  sizes  to  use ;  they  should  vary  as  the  con- 
dition of  the  river  changes.  During  the  first  part 
of  June  there  is  generally  a  freshet  As  the  water 
begins  to  fall,  but  still  remains  muddy,  then  use 
the  No.  5/0  Silver  Gray,  and  your  heart's  desire 
will  be  gratified. 

From  eight-thirty  in  the  evening  until  nine- 
fifteen,  always  use  the  large  sizes  —  from  5/0  to 
3/0  Silver  Gray  or  Silver  Doctor.  This  applies 
to  July  as  well  as  June  fishing.  There  seems 
to  be  a  certain  time  between  eight-thirty  and  nin«» 
o'clock  when  these  game  fish  appear  to  be  in  a 
state  of  frenzy,  rushing  eagerly  for  the  fly.  Why 
they  prefer  this  time  of  night,  when  all  nature 
seems  slumbering,  is  a  mystery  to  me.  Often 
during  these  few  minutes,  which  my  canoeman  has 
appropriately  named  the  "magic  spell,"1  I  have 
had  grand  sport;  but  I  have  never  hooked  a 
salmon  later  than  nine-twenty,  and  now  always 
stop  fishing  before  that  time,  as  the  darkness 
coming  on  detracts  so  much  from  the  pleasure. 

The  "  magic  •pell"  begins  about  the  middle  of  Juae. 


THE  LEADERS,   OR  CASTS 

•HE  leaders  —  or  casts,  as  they  are 
called  by  many  —  should  be  nine  feet 
in  length  for  early  fishing,  and  made  of 
heavy,  strong  gut;  for  at  this  season  of 
the  year,  the  river  being  high,  the  current  is  much 
swifter,  and  greater  force  is  required  while  playing 
the  fish :  therefore  the  heavier  leader  is  the  best. 
Later  in  the  season,  when  the  river  falls  and  the 
water  is  very  clear,  I  should  advise  the  use  of 
leaders  twelve  feet  long  and  of  a  much  smaller- 
sized  gut.  They  should  lift  when  dry  four  pounds, 
and  it  is  always  best  to  test  one  before  fastening  it 
to  the  line.  I  consider  the  stained  leaders  prefer- 
able, as  they  attract  less  attention  One  should 
constantly  examine  them,  for  they  frequently  be- 
come knotted  when  cast  against  the  wind,  and 
should  this  occur  they  are  apt  to  break  at  the 
knots.  This  happened  to  a  friend  of  mine  when 
he  had  the  fish  almost  within  reach  of  the  gaff. 
In  attaching  the  fly  to  the  leader,  hold  the  fly  be- 

25 


tween  the  thumb  and  forefinger  of  the  left  hand, 
with  the  curve  of  the  hook  downward  Cut  off  the 
loop  of  the  leader  and  tie  a  single  knot  at  the  end. 
Put  the  knotted  end  of  the  leader  up  through  th<» 
loop  on  the  hook,  turning  it  to  the  right  Bend  it 
around  the  loop  on  the  hook,  putting  the  knot 
between  the  leader  and  top  of  the  loop.  Then 
draw  the  leader  tight,  and  the  knot  will  prevent 
the  end  pulling  through.  A  fly  fastened  in  this 
manner  rests  better  upon  the  water,  there  is  less 
resistance,  and  in  my  opinion  it  will  add  many 
more  fish  to  our  score  than  when  fastened  in  tlm 
usual  way  —  with  the  loop.  Of  course,  there  are 
times  when  salmon  will  take  almost  anything ;  but 
when  the  water  is  clear,  and  you  are  fishing  some 
quiet,  shallow  pool,  then  the  finest  leaders  and 
the  most  delicate  little  knots  are  necessary.  !•. 
fastening  the  leader  to  the  line,  the  end  of  the  line 
is  put  through  the  loop  at  the  other  end  of  the 
leader,  and  brought  around  in  the  same  manner  as 
when  attaching  the  fly.  A  knot  at  the  end  of  the 
line  is  unnecessary,  as  it  will  hold  without  one, 
but  on  the  leader  it  is  indispensable.  It  is  always 
well  to  put  our  leaders  in  water  just  before  they 
are  used.  This  will  soften  them  and  prevent  break- 
ing while  handling,  for  they  are  somewhat  brittle 
when  dry.  It  will  also  take  out  the  kinks.  Warm 
water  may  be  used,  but  never  hot  Sometimes 
they  become  frayed ;  by  going  over  them  briskly 

26 


with  a  soft  piece  of  rubber  all  the  roughness  will 
be  removed 

When  the  fishing  is  over  for  the  season  the  lead- 
ers should  be  wrapped  in  oiled  silk  and  placed  in 
tin  or  wooden  boxes.  This  will  keep  them  in  good 
condition  for  the  following  year. 


27 


THE  CLOTHES 

my  first  visit  to  the  Cascapedia  I 
stopped  a  few  days  in  St.  John,  and 
while  there  met  a  celebrated  angler. 
I  thought  it  best  to  consult  him  with 
regard  to  my  outfit,  so  I  asked  him  to  come  and 
see  if  mine  was  complete. 

I  had  two  suits  of  a  light-colored  homespun,  and 
one  of  a  very  bright  plaid.  These  suits  seemed  to 
me  to  be  just  the  thing.  Perhaps  the  plaid  was  a 
little  startling,  but  I  did  not  consider  it  so  much 
so  as  to  scare  the  salmon  out  of  the  river.  But 
when  he  saw  my  "  togs,"  he  threw  up  his  hands  in 
horror  and  said :  "  If  you  expect  to  kill  any  fish, 
you  will  be  disappointed.  Why,  they  will  see  you 
a  mile  away.  This  rig  is  altogether  too  bright 
Tou  should  have  a  dark  suit ;  even  black  is  better 
than  what  you  have.19 

"What  can  I  do!"  I  exclaimed:  "I  have  no 
other  clothes." 

We  finally  decided  to  go  to  a  shop  where  they 
sold  ready-made  clothing,  and  after  trying  on,  it 

28 


seemed  to  me,  every  suit  in  sight,  we  decided  upon 
a  black  cutaway  coat  and  waistcoat ;  and  as  there 
were  no  trousers  of  the  same  pattern,  I  selected  a 
beautiful  pair  of  black  with  white  stripes. 

"Now,"  said  he,  "you  are  all  right."  Whc-fli'-r 
he  had  any  interest  in  that  shop,  my  readers  shall 
decide;  I  was  a  novice,  and  had  never  killed  a 
Cascapedia  salmon.  What  did  I  care  whether  I 
fished  in  a  cutaway  or  a  nightgown ! 

On  our  arrival  at  the  river,  imagine  my  astonish- 
ment when  my  canoeman  told  me  that  the  loud, 
startling  plaid  clothes  were  just  the  thing.  Per- 
haps he  had  an  eye  for  the  cutaway ;  I  am  sure 
that  he  had,  for  before  I  left  he  got  it. 

Any  color  will  do,  although  I  should  not  advise 
fishing  in  one's  shirt-sleeves,  at  least  if  the  shirt 
be  white  and  you  are  on  a  pool  where  the  salmon 
can  see  you  —  as  I  once  saw  a  man  doing  in  a 
white  jersey,  white  duck  trousers,  and  a  white  hat. 
I  asked  him  if  he  had  had  any  sport.  "  Not  a  fish 
since  I  have  been  on  the  river!"  he  replied.  Yet 
he  continued  to  wear  that  white  suit  just  the 
same. 

Salmon  are  accustomed  to  seeing  dark  objects 
floating  down  the  river,  such  as  logs,  branches  of 
trees,  etc. ;  therefore  I  should  recommend  clothes 
as  similar  in  color  as  possible.  The  Lovat  mixture 
is  an  excellent  cloth  for  a  suit,  with  cap  to  match. 
When  the  river  is  high  it  does  not  matter,  but  at 

29 


low  water  one  cannot  be  too  careful.  I  always 
have  a  rubber  bag  in  the  canoe  large  enough  to 
hold  a  rubber  coat,  boots,  a  light  jersey,  a  light- 
weight overcoat,  and  a  pair  of  socks.  It  occupies 
but  little  space,  and  when  one  of  those  sudden 
showers  comes  out  of  the  clear  sky  these  articles 
are  more  useful  there  than  at  home. 

A  most  necessary  article  is  an  ounce  vial  of  the 
oil  of  citronella.  One  or  two  drops  rubbed  on  the 
hands  and  face  will  keep  away  the  whole  company 
of  flies  and  midges.  I  never  knew  this  until  last 
year,  and  it  is  well  worth  knowing. 


90 


THE  CASTING 

'HIS  is  the  most  interesting  part  of  the 
sport  —  not  perhaps  the  most  exciting, 
nor  the  part  one  loves  the  best,  but  it 
is  the  part  which  requires  the  greatest 
skill  and  upon  which  depends  your  success. 

How  indifferent  you  try  to  appear  when  some 
one  says,  "Why,  how  well  you  cast ! "  You  always 
reply, "  Oh,  no ;  do  you  think  so  T  w  when  you  really 
think  you  do,  and  all  the  time  you  are  swelling 
with  pride.  You  are  trying  not  to  grin,  but  you 
do,  and  your  cheeks  are  getting  red  and  you  are 
the  happiest  person  in  the  world  because  you  have 
been  told  you  cast  a  goo<i  / 

A  friend  of  mine  was  having  very  poor  sport. 
He  was  sitting  in  his  canoe,  casting  a  most 
wretched  line,  and  looking  so  dejected  that  I  was 
quite  sure  if  it  continued  he  would  not  have  any 
luck  and  might  wish  to  return  to  camp.  As  he 
was  to  join  me  at  luncheon  up  the  river,  and  we 
were  to  have  the  afternoon's  fishing,  it  would  have 
been  most  annoying  to  have  him  spoil  the  day's 

31 


sport  by  returning.  "  What  can  I  do  to  keep 
him  interested  Tw  A  happy  thought  struck  me: 
"  Tell  him  he  casts  well." 

"  How  well  you  cast ! "  I  shouted.  "  We  all  no- 
ticed it  coming  up  the  river." 

"Oh,  no;  really tw 

Up  he  jumped,  threw  out  his  chest,  and  as  I 
turned  a  bend  in  the  river,  the  last  thing  I  saw  was 
that  rod  going  through  the  air  a  hundred  casU  to 
the  minute,  and  I  heard  a  voice  crying  out : 

44  Do  not  be  late  for  luncheon.  Tou  know  we  are 
to  fish  early  this  afternoon  I "  He  has  since  become 
a  good  fisherman,  and  we  have  had  many  laughs 
over  the  incident 

I  once  told  a  young  woman  who  was  fishing  on 
our  river  that  she  cast  a  good  fly.  I  really  believe 
that  she  would  have  embraced  me  had  I  not 
changed  the  subject  We  all  like  to  be  praised, 
and  what  pleases  us  more  than  to  be  told  we  are 
expert  anglers  f 

The  learner  should  remember  that  it  is  just  as 
easy  to  make  his  casts  gracefully  as  awkwardly. 
How  few  anglers  there  are  who,  although  they 
are  able  to  make  the  fly  alight  fairly  well,  do  it  in  a 
graceful  and  pretty  way!  It  looks  very  simple, 
but  the  little  trick  puzzles  most  of  us  at  first,  and 
when  once  you  have  acquired  the  knack  of  turning 
the  wrists  at  the  right  moment,  you  have  accom- 
plished that  in  which  the  majority  of  anglers  have 

32 


LIMESTONE  POOL 


Tailed,  and  with  which  I  have  been  struggling  for 
the  past  twenty  years.  Very  little  force  is 
needed  — not  nearly  so  much,  even  in  very  long 
casts,  is  needed  as  one  would  imagine.  I  have 
seen  a  salmon-angler,  who  should  have  known 
better,  use  as  much  force  in  casting  a  line  thirty 
feet  as  he  would  in  casting  sixty  feet;  yet  he  can- 
not understand  why  in  the  short  cast  his  fly  some- 
tinies  jumps  backward  and  lands  five  feet  this  side 
of  the  spot  intended,  and  why,  in  the  backward 
cast,  the  tip  of  his  rod  hits  Hill  on  top  of  the 
head  as  he  sits  in  the  bow  of  the  canoe,  unconscious 
of  any  danger,  looking  for  logs  coming  down  the 
river.  But  Bill  certainly  knew  his  man  the  next 
trip,  for  I  saw  him  lying  flat  on  his  stomach,  duck- 
ing his  head  on  the  back  cast,  bobbing  it  up  on  the 
forward,  "An  eye  up-stream  for  those  derned 
logs,"  as  he  expressed  it,  the  other  on  the  "  strong 
man."  "Quite  a  busy  day,"  be  remarked  to  my 
canoeman,  as  we  were  passing,  "  and  lucky  it  's 
cold !  No  stiikes  yet,  but  I  guess  some  one  will  get 
one  before  we  get  through  ! n 

You  should  be  able  to  cast  equally  well  from 
either  shoulder,  without  changing  the  position  of 
the  hands  upon  the  rod.  The  right  usually  grasps 
the  rod  above  the  reel,  with  the  left  below.  This 
is  the  position  of  nearly  all  anglers  when  casting 
from  the  right  shoulder,  whether  the  line  is  thrown 
in  a  direction  diagonally  to  the  right,  straight  away, 

33 


or  diagonally  to  the  left;  but  when  a  cast  is  made 
from  the  left  shoulder  diagonally  to  the  right, 
most  salmon-anglers  reverse  the  places  of  their 
hands.  This  is  not  at  all  necessary.  And  as  it 
is  more  artistic  to  bend  the  rod  toward  the  left 
shoulder  and  to  make  the  cast  with  one's  hands  un- 
changed, why  not  cultivate  the  skill  that  charms — 
and  what  has  more  charm  than  the  casting  of  a  fly  T 
Of  course,  I  do  not  intend  that  one  should  continue 
throughout  the  day  casting  with  his  hands  in  th<> 
same  position  in  which  he  began  in  the  morning; 
l'iit  I  do  think  it  better  to  continue  to  cast  from 
either  shoulder  as  long  as  you  can  without  fatigu- 
ing yourself  or  reversing  the  places  of  the  hands. 
Tou  will  be  surprised  to  find  how  interested  yon 
will  become  in  this  style  of  casting,  and  you  will 
see  a  wonderful  improvement  in  the  alighting  of  the 
fly  upon  the  pool.  If  you  have  not  already  accom- 
plished this  little  feat,  try  it  and  see. 

Do  not  attempt  to  learn  the  art  of  casting  for 
salmon  upon  the  grass.  We  are  not  going  bass- 
fishing  to  see  how  far  we  are  able  to  throw  the  bait 
We  are  going  to  try  to  capture  one  of  the  most 
beautiful  specimens  of  Nature's  creation,  and  with 
such  a  prize  before  us  let  us  obtain  it  in  a  worthy 
manner.  If  you  begin  with  the  grass  practice,  your 
only  thought  when  arriving  at  the  river  will  be  to 
see  how  far  you  can  throw  the  fly ;  so  instead  of 
trying,  as  I  have  seen  many  do,  to  ruin  the  line  or 

34 


break  the  tips  casting  for  the  wily  toad  upon  the 
lawn,  we  will  go  to  the  bank  of  some  swiftly  run- 
ning stream  to  practise  to  our  heart's  content  the 
art  which  all  true  anglers  love  —  the  casting  of 
the  fly. 

As  most  of  our  fishing  will  be  done  from  canoes, 
we  should  begin  our  practice  in  the  method  by 
which  we  intend  to  kill  our  fish ;  and  when  one  has 
become  proficient  in  the  art  of  casting  the  fly  from 
the  canoe,  it  will  be  easier  to  accomplish  the  feat 
upon  land.  Casting  from  the  canoe  is  less  difficult 
than  from  the  bank  or  beach  of  the  river,  because 
one  usually  has  a  clear  space  in  which  to  make  the 
cast,  and  should  the  fly,  when  thrown  back  pre- 
paratory to  the  forward  cast,  strike  the  water,  as  it 
sometimes  does,  nothing  more  serious  is  likely  to 
happen  than  marring  the  beauty  of  the  cast ;  but 
when  casting  from  the  land  one  should  be  more 
careful,  for  if  the  fly  touches  any  obstruction  it  is 
liable  to  become  fastened,  and  the  result  is  usually 
a  broken  tip  or  hook.  To  touch  either  the  water 
from  the  canoe,  or  any  obstruction  when  fishing 
from  bank  or  beach,  is,  of  course,  bad  form,  and 
pardonable  only  when  a  very  heavy  wind  is  blow- 
ing against  one's  back.  Even  in  the  canoe,  do 
not  fail  to  look  behind  you  to  see  if  there  are 
any  trees  on  the  banks,  or  rocks  projecting  above 
the  water,  which  might  cause  trouble ;  for  it  would 
be  most  annoying  to  find  our  fly  fastened  to  a 

35 


branch,  or  to  have  the  point  of  our  hook  broken 
just  as  we  are  about  to  send  it  forth  with  the  ex- 
pectation of  hooking  a  big  fish. 

I  have  had  this  experience,  and  to  my  sorrow. 
A  large  salmon  had  been  reported  lying  at  the 
lower  end  of  a  rather  narrow  and  still  pool,  situ- 
ated some  distance  up  the  river.  Two  cliffs,  nearly 
perpendicular,  on  which  grew  a  few  scattered  trees, 
rose  majestically  on  either  side  of  this  wild,  weird 
place,  the  overhanging  branches  and  the  slow  Cur- 
rent of  the  water  making  the  casting  most  difficult. 
However,  having  heard  the  talo  of  this  wonderful 
fish,  of  course  I  was  all  excitement  and  eager  to 
know  if  the  guard  from  up  the  river  had  reported 
correctly.  So  William,  James, and  I,  keen  for  a  new 
experience,  started  the  next  morning  up  the  Cas- 
capedia.  Arriving  at  the  pool,  we  stealth il y  « 1  imbed 
the  cliff,  and,  lying  on  our  stomachs,  crawled  to  the 
edge.  Carefully  peeping  over,  we  looked  down  int.. 
the  depths  of  that  deep,  quiet  pool,  and  saw  an  enor- 
mous salmon  about  four  feet  under  water,  and 
to  all  appearances  resting  quietly  upon  a  project  in^ 
ledge.  He  was  so  large  that  James  made  his  usual 
exclamation,  "  Perfectly  scandlous!"  This  time  the 
guard  had  not  exaggerated  the  size  of  the  fish. 
We  hurried  to  the  beach,  jumped  into  the  canoe, 
and  started  for  the  pool,  with  visions  of  great  hap- 
piness before  us.  I  told  William  to  place  the  canoe 
in  a  position  that  would  enable  me  to  reach  the 

36 


salmon  with  tho  first  cast,  and  to  be  quite  sure  that 
we  were  far  enough  away  not  to  be  seen.  My  idea 
was  that  by  placing  the  fly  directly  over  the 
salmon  at  first,  I  should  be  more  successful  than  if 
I  whipped  the  water,  increasing  the  length  of  line 
with  each  cast;  that  method,  as  the  pool  was  so  still, 
I  thought  would  be  more  likely  to  frighten  him. 
My  men  placed  the  canoe  in  position,  and  after 
waiting  until  all  was  quiet  I  began  getting  out  my 
lino  by  casting  to  the  left,  and,  when  the  required 
was  iva«-h»'<l,  lifted  it  easily  and  sent  it 
backward,  to  go  forth  again,  as  I  intended, 
as  quietly  and  swiftly  as  it  came.  I  imagine  my 
fly  falling  softly  on  the  water;  I  see  a  huge  salmon 
rise  to  it  and  rush  down  the  rapids.  At  last  my 
dream  is  realized !  Oh,  what  joy,  what  rapture ! 
And  to  feel  myself  racing  down  the  river  on  top  of 
the  tumbling  seas,  with  this  huge  fish  occasionally 
throwing  himself  clear  of  the  water  in  his  effort  to 
dislodge  the  hook,  while  James  and  William  are 
paddling  for  life,  is  a  sensation  which  makes  every 
nerve  in  my  body  tingle  with  excitement.  Sud- 
denly the  salmon  stops.  Shouting  to  the  men  to 
back  water,  I  commence  to  reel  up  the  slack.  "Go 
on ! "  I  cry.  "  He  is  off  again !  Hold  on  there, 
James;  he  is  up-stream  now!  No,  by  Jove!  he  is 
going  down-stream  again ! "  And  away  we  go, 
rushing  down  the  river  after  him,  trusting  to  find 
some  quiet  spot  where  we  hope  safely  to  land  the 

37 


king  of  the  river.  Suddenly  I  am  awakened  from 
my  sweet  delirium  by  feeling  a  tug  at  the  end  of 
my  line  somewhere  up  the  river,  and  hearing  the 
breaking  of  branches,  I  quickly  turn  about,  and,  to 
my  horror,  discover  the  fly  fastened  to  a  limb  of  an 
overhanging  tree,  and  the  tip  of  my  rod  broken 
and  dangling  above.  My  happy  vision  has  passed 
away,  and  I  awaken  to  the  realization  that  it  is 
always  best  to  look  up-stream  before  casting. 

Having  anchored  the  canoe  a  sufficient  distance 
from  the  shore  to  avoid  all  obstructions,  let  the 
beginner  stand  about  midships,  with  feet  well 
apart,  and  the  right  foot  a  little  in  advance  of  th<» 
left  In  this  position  he  can  balance  himself  easily, 
and  prevent  the  boat  from  wabbling,  which  should 
be  avoided  when  fishing  a  still  pool,  for  the  ripples 
produced  by  the  motion  of  the  canoe  are  liable  to 
disturb  the  fish.  Pull  the  line  from  the  reel  until 
there  are  about  twenty  feet  from  the  tip  of  the  rod 
to  the  end  of  the  leader;  let  the  current  take  it  out 
until  nearly  taut;  then,  with  the  right  hand  grasp- 
ing the  rod  above  the  reel,  and  the  left  in  an  easy 
position  below,  raise  both  until  the  right  hand  is 
almost  opposite  the  middle  of  the  breast  Bemlini: 
the  wrists  slightly  forward  will  bring  the  rod  to  an 
angle  of  about  forty-five  degrees — the  position  in 
which  you  begin  to  make  the  cast  To  make  the 
cast,  commence  drawing  the  line  by  raising  the  rod 
slowly  backward  toward  the  right  shoulder,  in- 


creasing  the  speed  until  nearly  all  the  leader  is 
visible.  By  this  time  your  right  arm  and  rod  are 
nearly  perpendicular ;  then  by  a  slight  lifting  mo- 
tion  of  the  arms  and  a  quick  turn  of  the  wrists  the 
rod  will  spring  back,  lifting  the  line  and  sending  it 
backward  without  causing  the  slightest  disturb- 
ance in  the  water.  To  prevent  the  line  running 
from  the  reel  when  lifting  for  the  cast,  hold  it  with 
the  first  finger  only  of  the  right  hand.  Some  an- 
glers press  the  line  against  the  rod  with  all  four 
fingers.  This  is  not  a  good  way,  because  when  the 
lino  is  released  it  leaves  only  the  thumb  to  grasp 
the  rod.  When  you  lift  the  line  for  a  very  long 
cast  it  is  impossible  to  see  the  leader,  but  a  little 
more  speed  and  a  higher  elevation  of  the  arms 
will  send  the  line  back  in  the  proper  way.  In 
making  the  forward  cast  the  lifting  motion  is 
omitted;  but  as  you  spring  the  rod  forward, 
gently  lower  it,  and  the  fly  will  alight  softly  on 
the  pool.  Remember  to  allow  sufficient  time  for 
your  line  to  straighten  behind  you  before  making 
the  forward  cast,  otherwise  the  fly  is  liable  to 
be  snapped  off.  One  should  begin  with  a  short 
line,  gradually  increasing  the  length  as  he  improves 
in  his  casting.  When  once  you  have  commenced 
to  draw  the  line  toward  you,  keep  it  coming;  do 
not  stop  to  lower  the  rod,  as  is  the  custom  with 
many  anglers,  in  order  to  get  more  force  to  switch 
the  line  out.  The  lowering  of  the  rod  sinks  the 

39 


line,  makes  the  cast  more  difficult,  and  is  apt  to 
break  the  tip  as  you  lift  the  line  from  the  water. 
Remember  also  to  stop  the  rod  when  the  right  arm 
is  nearly  perpendicular;  for  should  you  cultivate 
the  habit  of  the  "strong  man,"  and  throw  the  rod 
well  back,  Bill  might  become  uneasy  again.  Be- 
sides, the  lowering  of  the  tip  pulls  the  line  down, 
and  causes  the  fly  to  hit  the  water.  Do  not  bend 
the  body  forward,  but  stand  erect,  and  make  the 
cast  simply  with  the  arms.  It  is  not  a  graceful 
sight  to  see  a  person  bending  over  and  poking 
nut  his  rod,  with  the  idea  that  it  is  helping  him 
to  make  a  longer  cast  I  cannot  understand  why 
it  is  done,  unless  one  thinks  more  power  is  given ; 
on  the  contrary,  the  speed  of  the  fly  is  loaeenad. 
Bending  in  such  a  manner  is  imitating  the  gyra- 
tions of  a  sandpiper;  it  makes  the  boat  wabble: 
and  this,  as  I  haye  already  stated,  is  a  grave  fault. 
The  canoemen  also  dislike  it,  for  they  are  expect- 
ing at  any  moment  to  be  plunged  into  the  cold 
river. 

When  casting  a  long  line  hold  the  rt*l  v.-ry  hi-rli, 
and  stop  it  suddenly  when  it  comes  to  the  per- 
pendicular. This  sudden  check  bends  the  rod, 
causing  the  line  to  be  sent  quickly  backward. 
By  the  same  motion  of  the  rod  as  in  the  backward 
cast,  the  long  line  is  thrown  prettily  forward. 
When  you  have  had  lots  of  practice,  aud  have  con- 
quered this  easy,  yet  seemingly  difficult,  manner 

40 


,  you  may  then  add  the  fly  and  go  forth 
to  capture  your  coveted  prize.  I  consider  Un- 
stopping of  the  rod  when  nearly  perpendicular  to 
be  an  expert's  way  of  casting  for  salmon.  Of 
course  there  are  many  ways  of  getting  a  fly  out 
without  endangering  one's  eyes,  but  the  above 
appeals  to  me  more  than  any  other.  There  is  one 
thing  to  especially  tfuanl  .-iirainst  in  salmon-fishing: 
not  to  attempt  long  casts  until  you  are  perfect 
with  the  short  line.  It  has  a  certain  fascination 
for  us  all,  so  the  habit  is  easily  acquired.  Even 
experienced  anglers  are  often  too  anxious  to 
throw  a  long  line,  and  I  must  confess  that  I  some- 
times try  to  raise  my  salmon  with  the  line  well  out, 
although  frequently  failing  in  the  attempt.  One 
will  have  better  sport  by  remembering  the  follow- 
ing rule:  Throw  only  the  length  of  line  you  can 
throw  well. 


41 


THE  FISHING 

[N  starting  for  the  day's  fishing,  do  not 
forget  any  of  the  articles  which  are 
necessary  for  the  sport  I  once  forgot 
my  fly-book  and  my  canoeman  his  gaff 
—  a  most  remarkable  thing  to  do;  but  it  really 
happened,  and  caused  us  much  annoyance. 

On  the  Cascapedia  I  should  advise  having  a  gaff 
at  each  end  of  the  canoe,  for  in  certain  part*  of  the 
river  it  is  impossible  to  beach  a  fish,  and  there  are 
some  rough  places  where  both  canoemen  should  be 
ready.  When  approaching  a  pool,  keep  well  to- 
ward the  bank,  and  insist  upon  the  canoemen 
reversing  the  position  of  their  poles,  for  should 
they  use  them  with  the  sockets1  down,  the  sound 
produced  by  the  steel  striking  the  stones  would  be 
more  likely  to  frighten  the  fish.  Having  got  well 
past,  paddle  toward  the  middle  of  the  river,  and, 
while  the  current  is  taking  the  canoe  toward  the 
pool,  gradually  stop  its  progress  by  gently  drop- 
ping the  kiilick.1  Then  pay  out  rope  enough  to 

1 A  small  steel  cap  placed  over  one  end  of  the  pole  to  prevent 
iU  slipping  when  it  strikes  the  bottom. 

>  A  weight  used  for  an  anchor ;  for  salmon-fishing  it  should  he  cov- 
ered with  lead  to  prevent  any  noise  when  it  touches  the  bottom. 

42 


l>j  ing  the  canoe  into  a  proper  position  for  casting, 
l.i it  do  not  anchor  in  the  middle  of  the  pool;  it 
frightens  and  drives  away  the  fish.  When  possible, 
try  from  the  side;  and  if  you  are  not  successful, 
changing  to  the  other  side  will  sometimes  cause 
the  salmon  to  rise.  I  suppose  it  is  the  drawing 
of  the  fly  across  the  current  in  a  different  way 
which  attracts  them.  Having  anchored,  wait  a 
few  minutes  before  attempting  to  cast,  until  the 
salmon  have  become  accustomed  to  the  canoe,  for 
I  am  sure  it  distracts  their  attention  from  the  fly. 
After  a  while  they  get  used  to  its  presence  and  do 
not  rnind  it.  My  own  experience  proves  that  one 
will  have  better  success  by  waiting  a  little,  espe- 
cially if  the  water  be  clear.  Even  in  a  rough  pool 
it  is  better  to  wait ;  but  of  course  if  the  river  be 
muddy  it  does  not  make  any  difference.  During 
this  time  of  delay  I  always  look  down  into  the 
depths  of  the  dear  old  river  to  see  if  any  of  the 
inhabitants  have  discovered  me  poaching.  Once  I 
thought  a  salmon  did  see  me,  for  I  saw  the  fish 
plainly,  and  the  water  being  so  clear,  I  supposed, 
of  course,  that  we  were  observed.  My  alarm  was 
unnecessary,  for  as  I  dropped  the  fly  over  him  and 
moved  it  backward  and  forward,  the  salmon  rose, 
seized  the  fly,  and  away  he  went.  Had  I  begun  to 
cast  as  soon  as  the  canoe  was  in  position,  I  do  not 
believe  I  should  have  been  successful.  No ;  when 
a  salmon  is  as  near  the  canoe  as  this,  do  not  keep 

43 


casting  for  him.  Drop  the  fly  lightly  above,  and 
draw  it  to  the  right,  to  the  left,  then  up-stream; 
if  these  motions  do  not  tempt  him,  try  dangling  it 
just  over  the  salmon.  If  he  still  refuses  to  rise, 
take  the  fly  away  and  rest  him  a  little.  At  the 
next  attempt  try  another  size  or  a  different  kind 
if  you  prefer.  Keep  trying  as  long  as  he  appears 
motionless,  for  he  may  wake  up  and  get  angry 
after  a  while,  and  seize  the  fly;  but  should  he 
sidle  off  a  little  you  may  know  it  is  useless  trying 
to  tempt  him.  I  have  never  known  salmon  to 
rise  after  moving  away  in  this  manner.  I  sup- 
pose, having  discovered  us,  they  are  frightened. 

In  fishing  a  pool,  try  to  have  the  sun  in  front 
of  you,  or  shining  sideways  on  the  water.  If  the 
rays  fall  upon  your  back,  the  moving  shadows  of 
your  arms  are  sure  to  alarm  the  fish.  Even  in 
muddy  water  salmon  will  rise  better  when  the  sun 
is  in  one's  face. 

Nine  o'clock  is  early  enough  to  commence,  but 
as  the  season  advances  you  should  go  out  a  littl<> 
earlier.  In  July  be  up  with  the  lark  if  you  wish 
any  sport,  for  the  best  fishing  is  from  5:30  until 
7  A.M.  Until  late  in  June  one  can  fish  throughout 
the  day,  but  after  that  until  the  close  of  the  season 
•  arl\  morning  and  late  evening  are  the  proper  times. 
I  consider  the  evening  really  the  best  time  of  all. 
With  the  canoe  in  position,  cast  the  twenty  feet  of 
line  diagonally  to  the  right,  being  most  careful  to 

44 


have  the  fly  and  leader  fall  upon  the  water  in  a 
straight  line.  Keeping  the  tip  two  or  three  feet 
above  the  surface,  move  the  rod  slowly  to  the  left 
with  liul.  short,  quick  jerks  until  the  fly  is  below 
the  stern  of  the  canoe,  not  forgetting  to  hold  the  line 
with  the  first  finger  of  the  right  hand.  Make  the 
next  cast  to  the  left ;  bring  the  fly  across  the  current 
in  the  same  manner  to  the  right.  It'  this  method 
will  not  induce  a  rise,  instead  of  allowing  the  fly  to 
move  across  the  current,  draw  it  up  the  stream  to 
the  right  as  soon  as  it  alights,  keeping  it  on  the 
surface.  Draw  to  the  left,  and  back  again  to 
the  right.  Try  this  a  few  times  before  increasing 
the  length  of  the  line,  for  salmon  will  often  take  the 
fly  drawn  in  this  manner,  when  all  other  attempts 
have  failed.  You  can  draw  the  fly  with  any  length 
of  line  you  are  able  to  cast,  but  unless  you  are  pro- 
ficient in  this  way  of  fishing,  the  leader  and  a  good 
part  of  the  line  will  remain  in  the  water. 

I  was  once  whipping  a  very  swift  piece  of  water 
where  salmon  usually  rise  well.  This  time  not  a 
fish  would  come  to  the  fly,  although  we  knew  there 
were  many  of  them  about.  After  throwing  as  long 
a  line  as  I  could,  I  reeled  in  all  but  about  twenty 
feet  and  commenced  casting  to  the  left,  drawing 
the  fly  on  the  surface  up-stream.  A  few  casts  had 
been  made  without  increasing  the  length,  when  a 
very  large  fish  rose,  and  seizing  the  fly,  ran  down 
the  river.  We  landed  him,  returned  to  the  same 

45 


spot,  and  commenced  to  draw  the  fly  again,  when 
another  seized  it,  and  off  he  started.  I  took  five 
salmon  out  of  this  water  by  drawing  the  fly 
after  it  had  been  given  a  good  trial  in  the  usual 
way.  Sometimes  they  will  take  the  fly  under 
water,  not  even  a  ripple  appearing  upon  the  sur- 
face. It  is  best  to  try  all  methods  when  you  know 
they  are  about,  but  drawing  the  fly  is  the  most  in- 
teresting to  me,  and  the  most  successful  as  well. 

If  you  shouM  make  a  bad  cast  and  the  fly  fails 
to  fall  properly,  do  not  switch  the  line  out  immedi- 
ately and  cast  again  to  the  same  place.  Switching 
the  line  splashes  the  water.  This  is  sure  to  alarm 
the  salmon  and  prevent  their  rising.  It  is  better 
to  leave  the  line  and  let  the  current  straighten  it, 
then  take  in  five  or  six  feet  by  drawing  it  slowly 
through  the  guys  with  the  left  hand.  Now  make 
the  cast  to  the  opposite  side,  and  continue  to  do  so 
until  all  of  the  slack  is  released*  When  you  have 
done  this,  you  may  again  cast  to  the  side  where 
you  failed  to  land  properly.  If  you  are  not  an  ex- 
pert in  this  hazardous  way  of  handling  the  line, 
instead  of  drawing  it  through  the  guys,  red  in 
slowly  and  wait  a  few  minutes  before  casting. 
The  latter  method  is  the  simpler  and  safer.  Watch 
carefully  while  you  are  reeling  in,  for  a  salmon 
will  often  follow  and  take  the  fly  quite  close  to  the 
canoe ;  I  have  frequently  had  them  do  this. 

In  clear  water  it  is  a  good  plan  to  drift  past  a 

46 


pool  to  find  out,  if  possible,  where  the  salmon  are 
lying,  at  the  same  time  keeping  a  good  distance 
away  so  as  not  to  frighten  them.  By  doing  this 
you  are  able  to  place  the  canoe  in  a  position  to 
reach  the  salmon  the  first  cast.  Wait  ten  or  fifteen 
minutes  before  trying,  for  if  we  have  chanced  to 
disturb  them  as  we  passed  they  probably  have  for- 
gotten all  about  us  by  that  time. 

Having  located  the  fish,  anchor  the  canoe  far 
enough  away  not  to  be  seen,  but  do  not  make  the 
cast  until  you  have  got  out  sufficient  line  to  land 
the  fly  five  or  six  feet  to  the  right  or  left  of  them, 
as  your  position  in  the  pool  requires.  This  can  be 
done  by  casting  almost  at  right  angles  to  the  canoe 
until  you  have  the  required  length;  then,  drawing 
the  line  back  over  the  right  shoulder,  send  it  for- 
ward, making  the  fly  and  leader  fall  in  a  straight 
line  upon  the  pool.  If  you  do  the  trick  correctly, 
something  huge  will  suddenly  dart  from  beneath 
and  seize  the  fly,  the  quiet  and  smoothly  run- 
ning waters  will  part,  and  away  you  will  go, 
dancing  merrily  down  the  rapids,  shouting  with 
joy. 

A  friend  and  I  had  been  fishing  all  the  morn- 
ing; it  was  late  in  the  season — about  July  tenth. 
As  the  river  was  very  low  and  clear,  we  had 
taken  only  one  salmon ;  however,  there  was  just 
time  enough  before  luncheon  to  try  another  pool 
nearly  a  mile  down  the  river.  I  thought  we  had 

47 


a  very  good  chance,  although  the  water  was  quiet 
and  very  shallow,  if  we  could  land  the  fly  cor- 
rectly just  above  a  sunken  rock  where  two  or 
three  big  fellows  are  usually  resting.  My  friend 
wished  me  to  make  the  cast ;  so,  getting  out  a  long 
line,  I  sent  it  forward,  dropping  the  fly  softly  on 
the  surface  just  above  the  rock.  I  had  hardly 
commenced  to  draw  it  when  an  enormous  shadow 
seized  the  No.  6  double  Black  Dose,  and  we  were 
off.  Out  he  jumped,  and  away  he  went  for  the 
rapids,  we  following  at  the  best  speed  possible. 
M  v  friend  killed  the  salmon,  which  weighed  thirty- 
nine  pounds.  After  luncheon  we  took  two  more 
—  twenty-five  and  thirty-four  pounds  —  on  tin* 
same  ground. 

I  am  sure  that  in  low,  clear  water  it  is  best,  if 
possible,  first  to  locate  your  fish.  Anchor  some 
distance  from  them ;  then,  with  a  long  line  properly 
thrown,  the  game  is  yours.  As  soon  as  you  have 
hooked  a  salmon,  turn  the  rod  so  as  to  bring  th<> 
reel  on  top.  This  will  make  the  line  run  along 
the  rod,  which  is  better  than  if  it  were  supported 
l>y  the  guys  alone;  besides,  with  the  reel  on  top, 
you  can  play  your  fish  easily.  The  killick  must  be 
taken  in  at  once ;  then  the  canoemen  should  paddle 
toward  the  shore  most  favorable  for  the  killing,  and 
sri/ing  their  poles  with  sockets  up,  hold  the  canoe 
in  position  ready  for  battle.  If  the  salmon  starts 
down  the  rapids,  do  not  pursue  him  immediately; 

48 


wait  and  see  what  he  really  intends  to  do:  for  often 
just  as  you  are  about  to  go  down  he  will  turn  and 
go  back  to  the  pool.  When  this  occurs,  the  cast 
i<  liable  to  be  cut  by  the  stones  in  the  river-bed; 
this  has  happened  to  me,  and  I  now  let  the  fish 
get  well  away  before  following.  When  the  salmon 
remains  in  the  pool  or  in  any  swift  water,  keep  be- 
low him  if  possible.  This  gives  him  the  current 
and  rod  to  contend  with.  Hold  the  rod  well  up, 
because  the  spring  of  the  rod  in  this  position  will 
kill  the  fish  much  quicker  than  if  held  at  an  angle 
of  forty-five  degrees;  besides,  when  he  makes 
his  frequent  jumps,  if  the  rod  is  well  up  you  can 
lower  it,  and  then  you  will  not  be  shocked  by  a 
broken  leader,  for  lowering  the  rod  gives  him  line. 
This  I  consider  most  important,  although  there  are 
many  anglers  who  argue  differently.  I  have  seen 
an  angler  turn  a  thirty-five-pound  salmon  com- 
pletely over  when  he  jumped,  and  I  have  also 
seen  the  same  angler  break  two  leaders  in  succes- 
sion doing  the  same  trick.  It  is  safer  and  prettier 
to  give  them  the  line. 

Do  not  hold  the  salmon  too  hard  at  first.  When 
he  has  become  a  little  quieter,  pull  as  hard  as  you 
like,  keeping  a  steady  strain  all  the  time.  I 
always  try  to  bring  my  fish  to  the  man  in  the 
stern  of  the  canoe.  If  you  keep  below  the  salmon 
until  he  is  tired  out,  you  can  usually  do  this.  Of 
course,  it  is  easier  to  bring  him  to  the  bowman's 

49 


gaff,  because,  being  below  the  fish,  it  cannot  see 
you  as  it  comes  toward  the  canoe.  The  latter 
method  is  unhandy,  as  it  invariably  necessitates 
either  turning  around  or  changing  your  seat 

A  salmon  is  usually  landed  in  from  ten  to 
twenty-five  minutes.  There  are  exceptions,  of 
course,  but  with  good  management  I  think  thirty 
minutes  is  time  enough  to  land  any  salmon,  unless 
he  is  hooked  outside  of  the  mouth.  Should  you 
come  to  a  long  stretch  of  swift-running  water,  and 
find  the  fish  is  bound  to  go  down-stream,  it  is 
great  sport  to  chase  him,  at  the  same  time  reeling 
up  all  the  line  you  possibly  can.  When  yon  have 
brought  him  to  the  surface,  which  you  can  easily 
do,  let  your  men  paddle  a  little  faster  and  gaff  t  h.- 
salmon  in  the  current  It  is  much  more  exciting 
and  requires  more  nerve  than  pulling  him  about 
in  some  quiet  eddy  until  ready  for  the  gaff.  Do 
not  allow  canoemen  to  use  it  until  the  fish  is  close 
to  the  canoe.  They  have  a  way  of  reaching  out 
and  gaffing  at  arm's  length,  which  is  a  bad  and 
dangerous  thing  to  do,  as  it  might  cause  an  upset. 
The  best  place  to  gaff  a  salmon  is  in  the  shoulder, 
and  always  back  of  the  leader.  It  takes  a  littl«» 
more  time,  but  the  fish  is  more  apt  to  be  saved 
and  the  leader  less  likely  to  be  broken.  When 
once  you  have  risen  a  salmon  and  he  misses  the 
fly,  cast  again ;  and  if  he  rises  two  or  three  times 
more  before  he  yields  to  the  little  trap  above. 

50 


feel  a  bit  satisfied  because  you  think  you  have  at  last 
outwitted  the  same  fish  —  as  you  suppose  him  to  be. 

This,  however,  is  not  always  the  case,  for  very 
often  you  hook  an  entirely  different  salmon  from 
the  one  which  rose  first.  I  was  fishing,  many 
summers  ago,  near  the  head  waters  of  that  wild 
little  river,  the  Nepisiguit,  and  had  for  my  com- 
panion Mr.  Spurr,  of  St.  John,  New  Brunswick  — 
and  a  fine  salmon-angler  he  was.  As  there  was  a 
cliff  about  twenty  feet  high  at  the  right  of  the  pool 
in  which  we  expected  some  sport,  I  suggested 
(limbing  up  to  see  if  there  were  any  fish  below. 
Crawling  to  the  edge  and  looking  over,  I  counted 
nine  salmon  at  the  head  of  the  pool,  lying  side  by 
side.  Having  told  my  friend  where  to  cast,  he 
threw  a  beautiful  line,  dropping  the  fly  lightly  just 
above  the  first  salmon  on  the  opposite  side.  The 
second  fish  rose,  but  did  not  take  the  fly.  He  cast 
again,  when  the  fourth,  darting  down-stream, 
turned  and  rose  in  about  the  same  place  in  which 
the  first  had  appeared. 

"I  will  get  you  yet,  old  fellow!"  I  heard  him  say. 
Again  he  cast,  but  this  time  the  seventh  salmon 
started  and  seized  the  fly  just  where  the  other  two 
had  risen. 

"  I  knew  I  should  get  you ! "  he  shouted.  Then 
there  was  a  tussle.  Up  and  down  stream  flew  the 
salmon,  now  out  of  the  water,  sometimes  sulking, 
and  finally  away  he  went  for  the  rapids.  The  old 

51 


gentleman,  with  the  agility  of  youth,  jumped  upon 
a  rock,  and,  giving  the  butt,1  the  rod  nearly 
donbled ;  but  the  greenheart  was  stanch  and  true, 
and,  gradually  straightening,  it  slowly  pulled  back 
the  fish.  After  leading  the  salmon  up  and  down 
the  stream  a  few  times, my  frieinl  turn*  1  th<>  fish 
toward  the  shore,  and  as  soon  as  it  felt  the  bottom 
it  wriggled  out  of  the  water  upon  the  beach. 

u  Well  done ! w  I  cried,  chuckling  with  delight  at 
the  joke. 

"  Did  I  not  tell  you  I  would  get  that  fish!"  again 
shouted  my  friend. 

Not  wishing  for  a  moment  to  destroy  his  happy 
delusion,  I  kept  silent  Later  I  told  the  old  gen- 
tleman. He  seemed  disheartened,  and  said,  "  It  is 
very  annoying  —  the  way  those  small  salmon  can 
fool  one."  Had  I  not  seen  this  happen,  we  both 
would  have  thought  that  the  fish  which  rose  first 
was  the  one  killed.  I  have  often  had  a  salmon 
rise  three  or  four  times  nearly  in  the  same  place, 
believing  it  to  be  the  same  fish ;  but  the  above 
experience  shows  that  we  are  sometimes  deceived. 

When  you  have  risen  a  fish  early  in  the  season 
it  is  a  good  plan  to  leave  the  fly  instead  of  casting 
again ;  for  the  salmon  will  often,  after  missing  the 
fly  the  first  time,  immediately  turn  and  seize  it, 
whereas  if  you  had  taken  it  away  he  might  have 

1 A  term  used  In  angling.  When  a  severe  strain  to  pat  upon  the 
rod  to  cheek  the  run  of  a  flsh,  it  is  called  "giringthe  butt," 

n 


PAIM   <>i     i 


gone  on  up  the  river.  At  this  season  they  are 
moving  along  during  the  day  as  well  as  at  night,  so 
it  is  always  best  to  try  this  plan.  When  your  fly 
is  in  the  water  keep  your  eyes  on  it;  pay  atten- 
tion; fish.  But  just  as  soon  as  you  find  yourself 
looking  at  objects  about  you,  —  gazing  at  the 
clouds  scudding  across  the  mountain-tops  or  doing 
anything  else  you  should  not,  —  then  take  out  the 
pipe  and  rest  a  little  until  you  feel  like  fishiog 
again.  Unless  you  do  this  you  will  become  indif- 
ferent to  the  sport,  and  will  cast  badly  and  very 
likely  lose  the  one  chance  of  hooking  the  biggest 
fish  of  the  season. 

I  once  knew  there  was  a  large  salmon  lying  at 
the  lower  end  of  Big  Camp  Pool.  Having  only 
one  more  day  on  the  river,  I  decided  to  pole  up 
for  the  afternoon's  fishing,  returning  the  same 
night.  It  was  a  very  hot  day,  and,  the  pool  being 
about  twelve  miles  from  my  house,  we  were  obliged 
to  make  an  early  start.  When  we  arrived  thunder- 
clouds were  flying  thick  and  fast  through  the  air, 
making  me  a  little  anxious  to  begin.  Having 
whipped  nearly  all  the  pool,  killing  only  one  salmon, 
my  prospects  for  a  fifty-pounder  did  not  seem  very 
bright,  so  I  said  to  my  men :  "  One  more  drop ; 
then  we  will  go."  I  had  just  made  a  long  cast  when 
my  attention  was  drawn  to  a  big  black  cloud  rising 
high  above  the  mountains  to  the  left,  indicating 
the  approach  of  a  heavy  storm.  In  turning,  some- 

53 


thing  happened — what,  I  never  knew.  Harrison 
shouted,  "  Have  you  got  him  f  He  's  a  whale ! " 
He  made  a  wave  across  the  pool  —  at  last  the 
fifty-pounder  had  risen!  What  could  I  dot  I 
-MM irk,  but  felt  nothing;  nor  did  I  ever  see  any- 
thing but  that  big  black  cloud,  which  kept  on 
rising  high  above  us  as,  with  gloomy  thoughts,  we 
paddled  homeward. 


r>4 


HOOKING  THE  SALMON 

strike  when  a  salmon  rises  to  the 
fly  is  a  simple  matter.  Almost  all  be- 
ginners do  this  feat  perfectly ;  but  to 
strike  at  the  right  moment  so  as  to 
hook  the  fish  —  that  is  quite  another  thing.  When 
I  began  I  could  equal  any  one  in  striking.  Back- 
ward would  go  my  rod,  and  back  would  come  the 
fly,  to  the  astonishment,  no  doubt,  of  the  fish,  and 
to  the  sorrow  of  myself  and  canoemen.  When 
you  have  a  rise,  the  thing  to  do  is  to  leave  the  fly 
until  you  feel  a  pull ;  then  strike  hard  if  you  are 
using  large-sized  hooks.  With  small  ones  only  a 
little  force  is  required,  because  when  a  small  fly  is 
required  salmon  usually  do  not  take  it  so  far  back 
in  the  mouth ;  they  seem  indifferent,  and  are  more 
apt  to  seize  it  between  the  lips.  If,  therefore, 
much  force  is  given  to  the  strike,  the  hook  is  lia- 
ble to  tear  out.  A  salmon  will  often  seize  the  fly 
before  you  are  able  to  pull  it  away  and  hook  him- 
self, but  even  then  it  is  best  to  strike  so  as  to  be 
sure  the  hook  is  home.  Sometimes  he  will  take  the 

55 


fly  and  come  forward,  keeping  yon  in  doubt  about 
its  being  seized.  If  this  happens  do  not  wait  for 
the  pull  —  it  would  be  too  late ;  but  if  it  be  a  short 
cast,  raise  the  tip  sufficiently  to  see  the  leader. 
Should  you  then  notice  that  the  lower  part  appears 
to  sink  more  than  usual,  or  moves  a  bit  to  the 
right,  left,  or  up-stream,  give  a  smart  strike,  and 
the  chances  are  you  will  find  yourself  hooked  to  a 
good  big  salmon.  With  a  long  line  out,  it  is,  of 
course,  more  difficult  to  know  whether  the  fly  has 
been  taken;  experience  will  tell  you,  if  you  pay 
strict  attention. 

When  the  fly  is  taken  well  under  water,  as  it 
sometimes  is,  and  no  whirl  is  seen,  your  only 
knowledge  of  the  fish  is  the  pull  Then  the  harder 
you  strike  the  better.  To  prevent  the  line  running 
from  the  reel  when  striking  the  fish,  it  should  be 
held  the  same  as  in  casting,  with  the  first  finger  of 
the  right  hand.  If  the  line  is  not  checked  in  some 
way  when  the  salmon  seizes  the  fly,  it  is  not  likely 
that  you  will  hook  him  unless  he  should  be  most 
eager.  Take  care  that  you  do  not  strike  too  hard 
and  break  the  leader;  release  the  line  as  soon  as 
the  salmon  is  hooked.  One  acquires  the  habit  of 
striking  at  the  rise  from  trout-fishing,  when,  of 
course,  it  is  necessary.  But  if  you  will  have  a  little 
patience,  and  say  to  yourself,  "  Wait  for  the  pull," 
nil  your  troubles  will  fly  away  at  the  first  salmon 
hooked. 

56 


Late  in  the  season  a  salmon  will  often  seize  the 
fly  so  gently  that  if  you  should  wait  for  the  pull 
it  would  be  too  late  to  hook  the  fish,  for  he  releases 
it  just  as  softly  but  with  greater  alacrity.  At  such 
a  time  it  is  difficult  to  know  when  to  strike.  How- 
ever,  with  careful  watchfulness,  you  will  soon 
learn. 

A  good  little  sportswoman  once  told  me  it  was 
easy  enough  to  hook  a  salmon  —  she  nrvrr  missed 

any. 

"  Will  you  tell  me  the  trick  T  »  I  asked. 

"  Why,  it  is  very  simple,"  she  replied.  "  I  never 
fish  for  trout  any  more." 

Many  anglers  strike  from  the  reel — that  is,  they 
depend  entirely  upon  the  drag  on  the  reel  checking 
the  line  sufficiently  to  hook  the  fish.  When  a 
strike  is  made  in  this  way,  the  right  leg  is  usually 
lifted,  the  body  is  bent  backward,  and  the  arms 
thrown  up,  until  the  rod  is  nearly  if  not  quite  per- 
pendicular. Finally,  the  right  hand  grasps  the 
handle  of  the  reel;  then,  with  revolutions  faster 
than  those  of  a  circular-saw,  the  angler  turns  the 
handle  in  order  to  bring  the  rod  back  again,  with- 
out giving  slack,  to  the  proper  position  for  com- 
mencing the  fight.  These  acrobatic  feats  when 
striking  a  fish  are  not  graceful,  or  at  all  necessary. 
If  you  hold  the  line  as  I  have  suggested,  then  a 
slight  turn  of  the  wrists  is  usually  all  that  is 
needed,  and  your  rod  will  at  once  be  in  the  right 

57 


position.  With  practice  you  will  know  how  much 
force  to  give  to  the  strike,  but  avoid  lifting  the 
arms,  which  is  neither  artistic  nor  correct 

Some  time  ago  I  had  rather  an  odd  experience 
when  striking  a  salmon.  A  small  wager  was  made 
with  a  friend  in  camp  that  I  would  return  in  the 
evening  with  a  forty-pound  salmon.  My  drawing 
at  the  club  had  all  been  fished,  with  the  exception 
of  two  drops,  in  the  Tim  Pool  at  the  foot  of  Big 
Curley  Rapids.  Having  made  a  few  caste  with  a 
No.  6  double  Tim  fly,  I  saw  a  small  whirl  appear 
at  the  end  of  my  leader.  Thinking  it  had  been 
made  by  a  salmon  of  not  more  than  twenty-five 
pounds,  and  not  wishing  to  lose  any  time  as  we 
were  looking  for  forty-pounders,  I  tried  to  pull  my 
fly  away.  Before  I  could  do  so,  the  salmon  seized 
it  and  immediately  settled  in  the  bottom  of  the 
pool.  We  were  all  disappointed,  because  my 
canoemen  were  as  anxious  as  myself  that  I  should 
win  the  small  wager.  Drifting  below  the  fish,  I 
gave  the  butt  strongly,  and  although  every  effort 
was  made  to  move  whatever  was  lying  at  the  bot- 
tom of  that  deep  pool,  our  attempts  were  in  vain. 
However,  I  kept  on  struggling,  and  finally  was 
n-wjinlr.l  l.y  MM-HILT  tin-  liin-  U-pn  t«»  movi*  up- 
stream—  slowly  at  first,  but  then  swifter  and 
swifter,  until  at  last  the  rapids  are  reached,  when 
suddenly  out  jumps  a  magnificent  fish,  and,  with  a 
rush  which  seemed  as  though  everything  would  be 

58 


carried  away,  he  starts  down-stream  for  the  run 
below  tin*  pool.  As  it  is  rough  water  here,  we  are 
obliged  to  be  most  careful  with  the  canoe,  and  just 
as  we  get  close  to  the  fish,  out  he  jumps  again  and 
speeds  away  for  the  deep  waters  of  Tim  Pool 
above.  We  follow  as  quickly  as  possible,  and 
after  chasing  him  up  and  down  the  river  for  some 
time,  I  finally  land  a  forty-four-pound  salmon  near 
the  place  where  the  little  whirl  appeared,  and  the 
wager  is  won.  Since  then  I  never  judge  the 
weight  of  a  salmon  by  the  size  of  the  whirl. 


59 


CHANGING  FLIES 

'HIS  is  a  pleasant,  even  a  delightful 
way  of  passing  the  time  while  on  tin* 
pool — and  also  of  bringing  on  an 
attack  of  nervous  prostration*  Tou 
are  confident  that  by  changing  the  fly  the  fish 
which  leisurely  rolled  up  at  the  Silver  Gray  a 
few  moments  ago  will  surely  succumb  to  the  fas- 
cinations of  the  Jock  Scott  Tou  pull  out  your 
fly-book,  and  choosing  a  beautiful  specimen  of  the 
same,  you  hand  it  to  Smith  to  see  if  he  thinks  the 
size  is  correct  Then  you  pass  it  back  to  Henry, 
as  you  want  his  opinion  of  the  hook*  After  brush- 
ing his  fingers  across  the  feathers  until  yon  think 
they  are  ready  to  fall  off,  he  decides  that  the  point 
does  turn  in  H  little,  so  another  new  bright  decora- 
tion is  added  to  his  hat  A  second  time  the  fly-book 
is  resorted  to,  and  a  Jock  Scott  —  similar  in  every 
way  to  the  first  — is  decided  to  be  a  little  im- 
provement on  theother ;  so, fasteningit  to  the  leader, 
away  it  speeds  on  its  journey,  while  you  gently 
draw  it  across  the  current  and  breathlessly  await 

60 


results.  Again  the  wise  old  fellow  below  re- 
fuses to  be  disturbed  in  his  slumber.  Another 
consultation,  and  you  decide  that  a  darker  fly 
might  arouse  him ;  so  this  time  a  Black  Dose  goes 
forth  on  its  deadly  mission;  but  still  he  sleep- 
eth,  and  seeth  not.  A  Durham  Ranger,  a  Wilkin- 
son, Brown  and  Black  Fairies — large  and  small 
flies  of  all  kinds  are  tried ;  but  the  old  salmon  seems 
perfectly  content  where  he  is,  resting  in  that  com- 
fortable little  spot  behind  the  big  rock. 

"  Suppose  we  have  a  smoke  now;  let  us  wait  ten 
minutes  and  then  try  the  Silver  Gray  again." 

"Don't  think  it  of  much  use,"  replies  Smith, 
"but  we  can  try."  Fastening  securely  the  same 
Silver  Gray  and  rising  to  my  feet,  I  cast  it  for- 
ward. "  What  was  that,  Smith  T  "  I  cry  as  my  fly 
comes  round. 

"  Think  you  must  have  moved  him,  sir.  Wait 
a  little,  and  cast  again."  This  time,  as  the  fly 
falls  softly,  there  is  a  splash  and  a  tug ;  at  last 
he  has  awakened  from  his  slumber.  If  this 
fish  had  risen  to  a  Jock  Scott,  Black  Dose, 
Dusty  Miller,  or  any  fly,  and  you  had  kept  on 
using  it,  I  believe  the  result  would  have  been  the 
same.  Salmon  no  doubt  sleep  more  than  we  think 
they  do,  and  when  we  are  casting  over  them  they 
do  not  see  the  fly.  Wo  raise  a  fish,  and  think  it 
strange  he  does  not  come  again.  Then  we  try  all 
kinds  of  flies,  and  finally  hook  our  fish  with 

61 


the  same  fly  to  which  he  first  rose.  This,  in 
my  opinion,  is  owing  to  the  salmon  being  asleep. 
Then,  arousing,  and  seeing  something  moving 
about  which  puzzles  or  startles  him,  he  rises  slowly 
to  see  what  it  is,  and  having  satisfied  his  curiosity, 
gently  drops  for  another  nap.  Awakening  the 
second  time  and  seeing  the  fly,  he  says  to  himself: 
"  Oh,  there  's  that  beastly  thing  again.  How  an- 
noying !  Think  I  '11  go  up  and  drive  it  away." 
Being  refreshed  by  his  sleep,  he  feels  more 
like  exercising;  so,  darting  upward,  he  seizes  the 
hook. 

At  the  first  of  the  season,  my  favorite  fly,  as 
I  have  already  stated,  is  the  Silver  Gray,  but  my 
wife  takes  her  salmon  with  the  Silver  Doctor. 
When  the  water  is  a  little  clear,  but  still  high,  and 
most  of  the  anglers  are  using  the  Jock  Scott  as 
well  as  other  varieties,  I  find  the  Black  Dose 
kills  just  as  many  fish,  showing  that  the  color  does 
not  make  much  difference  at  this  stage  of  the 
water.  When  the  river  is  low,  I  believe  that 
salmon  will  take  a  small  dark  fly  in  preference  to 
one  of  a  brighter  color.  Still,  I  have  been  very  suc- 
cessful using  both  the  No.  6  double  Dusty  Mill-l- 
and the  No.  6  double  Silver  Gray,  and  this  expe- 
rience at  times  makes  me  doubt  if  they  have  any 
choice.  My  friend  the  late  R.  G.  Dun,  who  fished 
the  Cascapedia  for  many  years,  told  me  he  found 
that  the  medium-sized  bright  fly,  even  in  low 

n 


water,  did  good  work.  Once  I  saw  him  killing  sal- 
mon in  the  middle  of  the  day  with  a  fly  whose 
body  was  silver,  the  hackle  red,  and  the  wings 
nearly  pink.  I  asked  him  what  he  called  it,  and 
he  said  it  was  a  Silver  Durham  Ranger,  size 
No.  1.  Another  fancy  of  his  was  the  Wilkin- 
son, which  I  have  tried  and  found  to  be  good. 
The  Durham  Ranger,  however,  has  never  be- 
friended me  on  the  Cascapedia,  although  if  con- 
stantly used  it  might  do  as  well  as  any  other  color. 
We  all  like  to  change  flies ;  it  amuses  us,  and  there 
is  a  certain  fascination  about  it :  but  I  believe  it  is 
more  apt  to  do  harm  than  good,  because  the  more 
you  change,  the  more  you  whip  the  pool.  It  is 
better  to  rest  the  fish  longer,  cast  less  frequently, 
and  try  to  tempt  them  again  with  the  same  fly  at 
which  they  first  rose.  I  do  not  believe  that  salmon 
pay  any  particular  attention  to  the  color  of  small 
objects  in  high  water;  it  is  likely  that  the  size  and 
the  bright  silver  tinsel  on  the  body  attract  them 
more  than  the  color  of  the  fly;  therefore,  at 
tliis  time,  when  the  water  is  muddy,  and  also 
at  night,  use  large  sizes  with  silver  bodies;  but 
when  the  river  is  low  and  clear,  I  should  recom- 
mend small  and  medium  flies  of  sombre  hues. 
Then,  if  the  salmon  are  not  sleeping  and  you  are 
careful  in  making  the  cast,  you  will  not  find  it 
necessary  to  be  continually  changing  flies.  One 
may  be  using  too  large  or  too  small  flies,  and  the 

63 


salmon  refuse  to  rise;  but  if  they  refuse  to  come 
to  my  favorites,  the  Silver  Gray,  Dusty  Miller, 
Black  Dose,  or  Tim,  I  do  not  believe  it  is  worth 
while  changing,  except  for  the  amusement  it 
affords. 

One  hot  day  in  July,  I  was  fishing  the  run  below 
Middle  Camp  on  the  club  waters.  There  had  been 
no  rain  for  several  days,  so  the  river  was  very  low 
and  clear.  When  I  had  whipped  nearly  all  the  run, 
which  was  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  long,  my 
canoeman  suggested  a  change  of  fly.  I  had  been 
using  a  No.  6  double  Black  Dose,  so  as  an  experi- 
ment put  on  a  yellow  fly  with  light  brown  wings, 
size  No.  2,  single  hook.  Dropping  the  canoe  about 
fifteen  yards,  two  or  three  casts  were  made,  when 
I  hooked  and  landed  a  twenty-seven-pound  salmon. 
Not  being  convinced  that  the  new  fly  was  th<> 
cause  of  our  success,  I  had  the  men  take  up  the 
killirk  and  pole  to  the  head  of  the  run  so  we  c<>ul<l 
drift  <»V«T  the  water  we  had  already  fished.  This 
was  done  most  carefully,  and  although  we  c<>uM 
see  every  stone  in  tin*  river-bed,  we  failed  to  find 
any  salmon,  showing  that  the  little  canary  was  not 
moreallnrinir,  l>ut  t hat  there  were  no  salmon  where 
we  had  been  fishing.  I  had  a  similar  experience  at 
the  head  waters  of  the  Nepisiguit,  with  the  same 
kind  of  a  fly,  but  my  friend  who  was  with  me  al- 
ways contended  that  changing  to  the  canary 
brought  us  ln«  k. 

M 


A  guard  on  the  Cascapedia,  and  a  good  angler, 
told  mo  ho  had  once  cast  a  Black  Dose  over  some 
salmon  for  twenty  minutes  or  more  without  being 
able  to  move  any  of  them,  but  upon  changing  to 
another  dark  fly  which  he  called  the  "  Kennedy,"  a 
fine  big  fellow  rushed  immediately  for  it.  As  it 
was  in  swift  water  where  he  took  the  salmon,  it  is 
possible  that  the  fish  changed  its  position  in  the 
pool  while  the  guard  was  changing  the  fly,  and  the 
M  Kennedy  *  was  the  first  fly  the  salmon  saw.  Had 
the  guard  continued  with  the  Black  Dose  and  been 
most  careful  about  his  casts,  I  believe  it  would 
have  been  just  as  effective.  The  angler,  after  cast- 
ing a  long  time  without  any  rises,  often  becomes 
careless  and  does  not  drop  his  fly  correctly  on  the 
pool.  He  then  changes  the  fly.  Again  the  expec- 
tation of  hooking  a  fish  makes  him  more  keen,  so 
for  a  few  moments  he  casts  better ;  it  is  then  that 
the  salmon  is  hooked.  This  the  angler  attributes 
to  the  changing  of  the  fly,  when  it  is  really  owing 
to  better  casting.  In  my  own  fishing  I  have  no- 
ticed that  if  I  am  casting  badly  I  cannot  get  any 
salmon.  This  is  especially  true  when  the  river  is 
low.  But  when  you  know  that  you  are  casting 
over  the  same  salmon,  which  is  possible  to  deter- 
mine only  in  clear  water,  and  he  rises  to  but  re- 
fuses different  sizes  of  the  same  fly,  I  doubt  very 
much  if  other  colors  will  tempt  him. 

I  have  frequently  clipped  the  wings,  tail,  and 

65 


hackle  of  my  fly  after  a  salmon  has  refused  it,  and 
with  this  trimmed  affair  have  killed  two  or  three 
fish,  showing  it  was  the  size  rather  than  the  color 
which  won  them. 


r>r> 


THE  WEATHER 

'HE  weather  at  times  seems  to  have  a 
rather  depressing  effect  upon  salmon. 
In  June,  when  the  days  are  cool  and 
dull,  they  are  not  as  eager  for  the  fly 
as  in  bright,  clear  weather.  To  kill  a  salmon  dur- 
ing a  thunder-storm  is  a  feat  which  I  have  never 
accomplished,  though  I  have  got  many  a  good 
ducking  in  trying  it.  I  have  taken  fish  when  the 
thunder  was  rolling  through  the  heavens  and  a 
little  rain  falling  upon  the  pools,  although  the 
storm  was  some  distance  away.  But  when  those 
terrific  explosions  burst  upon  you  from  directly 
overhead,  as  if  the  clouds  were  torn  asunder,  and 
fierce  lightning  adds  new  fear  and  danger  to  us 
below  —  at  such  a  time  I  believe  the  salmon,  like 
other  animals,  including  their  human  cousins,  are 
thinking  more  of  their  safety  than  of  anything 
else.  Perhaps  a  few  anglers  may  have  braved  all 
this  and  killed  fish,  but  I  have  never  been  able  to 
get  a  rise  in  a  thunder-storm,  and  am  quite  sure  I 
shall  never  try  again.  Once  I  fished  all  through 

67 


a  severe  storm,  when  I  knew  the  pool  was  full  of 
fish,  bnt  not  a  fin  of  them  would  rise  to  take  the 
fly;  while  just  before  and  immediately  after  the 
storm  I  had  splendid  sport.  It  must  be  the  jar  as 
well  as  the  sound  of  thunder  which  frightens  them. 

Easterly  winds  are  not  considered  particularly 
favorable  for  sport,  although  I  have  killed  many  a 
salmon  when  it  was  blowing  that  way.  A  bright, 
clear  morning  in  June,  with  the  wind  from  th<> 
south,  is  the  best  of  all ;  but  in  July  our  prayers 
are  for  rain  from  the  west  or  south.  A  very  heavy 
downfall  is  not  good,  because  the  big  drops  hit  the 
water  so  forcibly  as  to  make  large  bubbles,  and 
these  prevent  salmon  from  seeing  the  fly.  I  may 
err  in  saying  that  salmon  do  not  see  the  fly  amid 
the  large  bubbles,  but  I  have  never  had  a  rise 
when  this  condition  prevailed.  It  is  an  old  saying 
among  the  natives,  "Much  mist  on  the  river,  no 
salmon.19  I  have  not  always  found  this  true ;  often 
when  there  has  been  a  very  dense  fog  my  canoe 
has  done  remarkably  well  f  do  not  think  heavy 
mists  improve  our  chances  during  the  first  part  of 
June,  for  then  the  warmer  and  clearer  the  days  the 
better  the  sport  Later  in  the  season  cool,  dull 
days  are  preferable;  and  a  little  mist  does  no  harm. 
This  has  been  my  experience. 

It  was  an  afternoon  in  July;  the  day  had  been 
extremely  mild  until  about  four  o'clock,  when  the 
balmy  breeze  from  the  west  suddenly  changed  to  a 

68 


cold  east  \viml.  which  came  sweeping  up  the  valley 
and  made  it  most  disagreeable  to  be  on  the  river. 
I  said  to  my  men  :  "  Perhaps  this  sudden  whim  <  >t 
the  wind  may  cause  a  change  of  mind  in  that  big 
fish  we  saw  this  morning  in  front  of  the  camp. 
He  may  now  be  willing  to  rise." 

We  poled  up  to  the  pool  with  the  utmost  care, 
and  placing  the  canoe  about  sixty  feet  above  the 
spot  where  the  salmon  was  lying,  I  put  on  a  No.  4 
double  Dusty  Miller.  My  hands  were  cold,  and  I 
told  James  to  make  the  first  cast,  never  dreaming 
the  salmon  would  be  so  near.  He  made  a  cast. 
Instantly  a  very  large  fish  jumped  nearly  out  of 
the  water,  and,  seizing  the  fly,  dashed  up  the 
stream,  taking  out  thirty  yards  of  the  line  before  I 
could  get  the  rod.  In  a  second  he  started  up- 
stream again  with  a  run  of  forty  yards.  By  this 
time  we  were  following  as  fast  as  possible,  but 
found  it  most  difficult,  as  we  had  to  go  up  a  rapid 
before  reaching  the  pool  in  which  the  salmon 
stopped.  While  we  were  moving  along  I  was  able 
to  take  in  some  line;  when  all  but  about  forty 
yards  was  on  the  reel,  my  men  suddenly  stopped 
poling,  and,  to  my  dismay,  Harrison  said :  "  That 
salmon  is  behind  the  ledge ;  we  must  get  on  the 
other  side  of  the  rapid  right  away  if  we  wish  to 
save  him."  I  was  a  little  angry,  for  the  men  should 
have  told  me  that  there  was  a  ledge  on  that  side. 
We  had  just  started  to  go  across  when  I  felt  a  tug, 

69 


then  another,  and  before  I  knew  what  had  hap- 
pened the  ledge  cat  my  leader  and  the  salmon 
went  off  like  a  flash.  It  was  a  very  large  fish  — 
fifty  pounds,  I  should  think,  or  more;  and  when 
my  line  came  back  I  could  have  wept  Had  I 
known  there  was  a  ledge  under  water,  I  would 
have  gone  toward  it  as  soon  as  the  fish  made  its 
second  run,  and  then,  perhaps,  been  spared  the 
great  disappointment  It  was  most  annoying  to 
lose  the  fish  at  this  time,  because  my  wife  and  six 
men  were  watching  me  from  the  bank,  and  every 
soul  of  them  (save  one)  believed  it  to  be  my  fault 
Having  tried  this  same  salmon  in  the  morning,  it 
would  appear  as  if  the  cold  wind  had  made  him 
change  his  mind  and  take  the  fly  in  the  afternoon. 
They  will  often  do  this  when  there  is  a  sudden 
change  from  a  warm  to  a  cold  wind. 

On  the  following  morning,  as  I  came  out  of  my 
room,  I  saw  Harrison  paddling  about,  looking  into 
the  deep  water  of  the  pool  where  I  had  lost  my  fish 
the  previous  evening.  Presently  he  crossed  th<» 
rapid,  and  as  he  beached  the  canoe  he  shouted: 
"  My  gracious  I  Mr.  Davis,  there 's  a  salmon  in  that 
pool  in  about  twenty  feet  of  water,  and  he  is  the 
liiiTLT.-t  fish  I  havf  rvrr  sr,-n  ;  I  U-li.-v.-  In-  is  th«» 
one  you  hooked  last  night  He's  a  brute!"  I 
thanked  James  quietly  and  blessed  him. 


70 


THE  LOGS 

'UMBERING  in  the  Cascapedia  country 
has  developed  to  such  an  extent  that 
it  is  the  cause  of  much  annoyance  to 
the  anglers.  The  thousands  of  spruce 
and  cedar  logs  which  the  choppers  have  cut  and 
hauled  to  the  banks  during  the  winter  are  rolled 
into  the  river  in  the  spring,  and  they  come  dancing 
along,  bobbing  up  and  down  in  the  current,  just 
about  the  best  fishing  time,  endangering  those  in 
the  canoes  and  ruining  for  a  time  all  the  chances 
of  any  sport.  Fortunately  this  condition  is  only 
temporary,  as  the  logs  are  not  more  than  two  or 
three  days  in  passing.  But  when  you  know  there 
are  fresh-run  salmon  eager  for  the  fly  resting  in 
the  pools,  and  it  is  impossible  to  fish  for  them,  you 
find  it  very  hard  to  refrain  from  using  unpardon- 
able expressions. 

I  do  not  believe  that  an  occasional  log  floating 
down  the  river  does  any  harm ;  it  rather  excites 
the  fish,  and  sometimes  wakes  them  up  a  bit  when 
in  a  state  of  lethargy,  for  I  have  often  taken  one 

71 


just  after  a  log  has  passed.  I  would  not  advise 
fishing  when  the  logs  are  continually  going  by, 
as  then  no  doubt  the  salmon  are  frighten*  <i. 
Once  I  saw  a  salmon  spring  from  between  two 
logs,  striking  one  of  them  as  he  fell  back.  He  did 
not  seem  to  be  much  alarmed,  for  he  glided  away 
very  quietly.  Unless  one  has  expert  canoemen,  it 
is  not  safe  to  go  out  when  the  logs  are  thick ;  but 
if  you  should  be  unable  to  resist  the  temptation 
to  go  a-fishing,  insist  on  having  both  men  face 
the  bow  of  the  canoe  when  you  anchor;  in  this 
position  they  can  see  the  logs  better  coming  down 
the  river,  and  it  is  wiser  to  have  two  men  on  the 
lookout  than  one.  I  used  to  think  one  was  suffi- 
cient, and  depended  entirely  upon  my  bowman, 
until  one  day  a  large  log,  <lriftin^  quietly  along, 
bumped  against  the  bow  of  my  canoe  and  sent  me 
tumbling  over  backwards  as  I  was  trying  my  best 
to  induce  a  fine  old  salmon  to  rise  the  second  time. 
It  was  most  fortunate  I  did  not  fall  overboard,  for 
just  below  there  was  a  dangerous  piece  of  water. 
The  man  was  so  intent  watching  my  efforts  to 
raise  the  fish  that  he  forgot  all  about  the  drifting 
logs ;  however,  I  forgave  him,  as  he  promised  to  do 

Once,  when  I  was  fishing  my  lower  water,  a  raft 
came  down  the  river  headed  directly  for  a  pool  I 
intended  to  try.  Believing,  of  course,  it  would 
drive  all  the  salmon  away,  I  decided  not  to  fish; 

72 


l.i it  my  men  seemed  to  think,  as  wo  had  come  so  far, 
we  should  make  a  trial  before  ivtmning.  "All 
right;  let  us  try,"  I  said.  We  dropped  the  killick, 
and  in  two  minutes  after  the  raft  had  gone  by  I 
was  fastened  to  a  salmon  —  the  only  one  I  found 
in  the  pool.  My  canoemen  told  of  a  person  who 
used  to  have  a  small  tree  drawn  through  a  pool  to 
stir  the  salmon  up,  as  he  expressed  it,  so  they 
would  bite ;  and,  strange  to  say,  the  experiment 
worked  well. 

One  night,  as  we  were  poling  leisurely  toward 
camp,  I  saw  a  large  night-heron  perched  on  a  log 
which  was  floating  down  the  middle  of  the  river. 
It  was  really  a  comical  sight.  I  suppose  the  bird, 
feeling  lazy  and  wishing  to  avoid  any  fatigue,  had 
chosen  this  means  of  traveling;  he  seemed  so 
absorbed  in  his  happiness  that  he  scarcely  deigned 
to  notice  us  as  we  passed.  Gazing  on  him  until 
he  was  out  of  sight,  we  continued  up  the  river. 

The  old  proverb,  "It  is  an  ill  wind  that  blows  no 
man  to  good,"  must  be  a  true  one.  On  a  bright, 
crisp  morning,  when  the  logs  were  running  very 
thick,  my  wife  with  her  canoemen  made  an  early 
start  for  a  pool  three  miles  down  the  river.  It 
was  about  the  only  place  where  there  was  any 
chance  of  saving  a  fish ;  for,  the  river  being  wide, 
with  the  current  strongest  close  to  the  left  bank, 
nearly  all  the  logs  that  came  down  followed  the  cur- 
rent toward  that  side,  leaving  a  moderately  clear 

73 


space  to  the  right  in  which  to  cast  About  an 
hour  after  Mrs.  Davis  had  left,  I  called  to  the  men 
and  told  them  to  get  ready,  as  I  was  going  down 
to  see  if  there  would  be  any  danger  in  fishing  this 
pool  By  the  time  we  were  ready  to  start,  the  logs 
had  increased  in  numbers,  making  the  running  most 
difficult  We  soon  came  in  sight  of  the  other 
canoe,  and  saw  that  it  was  in  the  midst  of  the  logs 
in  the  worst  part  of  the  river.  Both  men  were 
standing,  trying  to  push  the  logs  away,  while  my 
wife,  sitting  fiat  in  the  canoe,  was  playing  a  big 
fish.  Sometimes  the  rod  would  be  held  under 
water  to  let  the  logs  run  over  the  line ;  then  up  it 
would  go,  to  be  as  quickly  put  down  again,  allow- 
ing more  to  pass.  When  we  had  arrived  within 
one  hundred  yards  of  her  canoe,  I  told  my  men  to 
seize  their  poles,  the  bowman  to  watch  the  logs 
as  they  came  near  us  and  push  them  toward  the 
left  shore,  while  James  in  the  stern  was  to  hold  the 
canoe.  In  a  few  minutes  we  had  a  clear  space  for 
Mrs.  Davis  to  play  the  fish,  and  shouted  to  her  to 
pull  as  she  never  had  pulled  before.  She  turned  the 
salmon ;  he  reluctantly  left  the  swift  current,  and, 
with  a  tremendous  leap,  sprang  ten  feet  toward 
shallow  water.  This  was  just  what  was  wanted, 
for  if  he  could  be  kept  away  from  the  logs  he  was 
sure  to  be  landed,  if  the  hook  held.  By  dropping 
a  little  farther  down-stream  we  were  enabled  to 
push  nearly  every  log  away,  thus  giving  a  larger 

74 


space  and  making  the  chances  still  better  for  sav- 
ing the  fish.  Then  came  a  hard  and  bitter  fight 
to  prevent  the  salmon  from  getting  back  to  deep 
water ;  the  angler,  as  well  as  the  salmon,  began  to 
feel  the  strain.  But  again  the  deadly  spring  of  the 
little  cane-rod  splendidly  did  its  work ;  and,  mak- 
ing a  mighty  effort,  my  wife  succeeded  in  turning 
the  fish,  thus  winning  the  hard-fought  battle.  After 
a  few  ineffectual  attempts  to  break  away,  he  is 
gently  brought  to  the  gaff  and  lifted  into  the 
canoe.  A  cry  of  delight  is  heard,  for  it  is  her  first 
forty-four-pound  salmon,  a  large  fish  to  kill  even 
under  favorable  conditions;  but,  with  the  river  full 
of  logs,  both  the  men  and  the  angler  deserve 
praise  for  the  skill  and  coolness  that  gave  them 
the  victory. 

Unless  the  lumbermen  drive  their  logs  earlier  in 
the  season,  they  will  eventually  ruin  the  Casca- 
pedia  as  a  salmon  river.  During  the  drive  of  1903 
the  logs  were  more  than  five  weeks  passing  my 
camp,  and  at  a  time  when  salmon  were  running 
up.  Jam  after  jam  extended  from  the  camp  five 
or  six  miles  up  the  river ;  in  one  place  it  was  nearly 
blocked,  there  being  hardly  space  enough  to  pole 
the  canoe.  This,  of  course,  is  not  allowed  by  the 
government ;  nevertheless  it  happened.  When  the 
logs  remain  so  long  in  the  river  the  water  becomes 
colored  and  dirty ;  innumerable  pieces  of  the  bark 
keep  drifting  down,  which,  in  my  opinion,  is  as 

75 


injurious  as  so  much  sawdust.  I  have  asked  the 
men  why  they  do  not  drive  earlier,  when  the  river 
is  high;  then  it  would  not  make  so  much  differ- 
ence, as  the  logs  would  pass  quickly.  Their 
answer  invariably  is  that  the  boom  is  not  strong 
enough  to  hold  so  many  logs;  they  would  drift 
out  to  sea.  If  such  is  the  case,  the  government 
should  prevent  the  owners  driving  more  than  they 
can  handle,  and  insist  upon  the  logs  being  in  the 
boom  by  the  last  of  June.  Sixty  or  seventy  thou- 
sand coming  down  at  low  water,  as  was  the  condi- 
tion this  year,  will  stop  the  late  June  and  early 
July  run  of  salmon  from  entering,  for  they  will 
not  enter  a  river  in  which  there  is  any  dyeing 
material  Now  that  lumbermen  have  invaded  the 
Lake  Branch,  and  scows  every  few  days  pass  up 
and  down  that  narrow  stream,  I  believe  the  salmon 
will  be  exterminated  eventually  in  that  part  of 
the  river  unless  the  government  comes  to  their 
rescue.  It  is  destructive  to  have  horses  wading 
and  hauling  scows  through  the  Lazy  Bogan  coun- 
try, as  there  the  river  is  also  narrow  and  shallow ; 
but  when  they  arrive  at  the  junction  of  the  two 
branches,  they  should  be  compelled  to  stop,  and 
the  supplies  for  the  logging  camps  toted  over  th<> 
road.  This  would  necessitate  a  little  more  outlay, 
and  the  owners  of  the  timber  should  be  made  to 
do  this  if  it  is  the  means  of  preserving  the  breed- 
ing-ground. In  the  winter  supplies  are  sent  over 

76 


llEK    111:- 1    FORTY-FulK   l'«.  -     ;  *ON 


the  road,  and  this  should  be  done  also  daring  the 
spawning  season ;  for  the  scows  are  nearly  as  broad 
as  the  stream,  and  the  water  being  shallow,  they 
must  necessarily  scrape  on  the  bars  as  they  are 
hauled  along,  destroying  the  spawn  and  disturbing 
the  fish.  If  this  matter  is  brought  before  the  gov- 
ernment, it  will  without  doubt  remedy  the  evil  and 
be  willing  to  protect  the  breeding-ground  of  our 
lordly  salmon.  The  Cascapedia  Club  and  the  few 
lodges  along  the  river  are  doing  everything  they 
possibly  can,  but  I  do  not  believe  they  will  be  suc- 
cessful in  increasing  the  number  of  salmon  unless 
the  lumbermen  help  in  their  preservation.  If  what 
I  have  seen  this  season  continues,  I  am  afraid  the 
beautiful  Cascapedia  will  become,  like  its  sister,  the 
"  Little  River,"  only  a  sweet  remembrance. 


77 


THE   SALMON 

'HE  salmon  of  the  Grand  Cascapedia 
average  more  in  weight  than  those  of 
any  other  river  in  Canada.  Although 
the  majority  of  the  fish  taken  run 
from  twenty  to  thirty-three  pounds,  many  are 
killed  that  weigh  from  thirty-three  to  thirty-eight 
pounds,  and  even  as  high  as  forty-three  to 
forty-five  pounds  is  not  unusual;  but  when  one 
overtops  the  forty-five-pound  mark,  congratula- 
tions are  extended  along  the  line  to  the  lucky 
angler.  Every  year  there  are  one  or  two  forty- 
seven-  or  forty-eight-pound  fish  landed,  and  some 
seasons  I  have  known  as  many  as  four  or  five  of 
these  enormous  fish  to  be  brought  to  the  gaff.  The 
fifty-pound  salmon  are  quite  rare,  although  I  was 
most  fortunate,  in  the  season  of  1900,  in  taking  one 
of  fifty-one  pounds,  and  the  following  year  another 
of  fifty-two,  the  killing  of  which  I  shall  describe 
later  on  in  "  A  Trip  to  Red  Camp." 

A  surprising  number  of  small  salmon,  weighing 
from  ten  to  sixteen  pounds,  have  come  into  the 

7- 


Tur.  I'M  S  M.M«.\ 


ri  V«T  during  the  past  four  or  five  years.  Formerly 
I  very  seldom  killed  a  fish  as  small  as  eleven 
pounds,  though  of  late  the  river  seems  to  hold  any 
n in nber  of  these  small  fish.  As  I  do  not  find  many 
of  them  in  my  pools  late  in  the  season,  or  even  in 
the  club  water, —  unless  at  the  upper  part  of  the 
river, —  they  must  be  bound  for  the  head  waters. 
I  believe  they  belong  to  the  lake  and  salmon 
branches,  and  are  the  result  of  protection.  They 
are  game  little  fellows,  and  when  hooked  will  run, 
jump,  and  skip  about,  trying  to  outdo  the  antics 
of  their  grandfathers.  It  is  a  great  mistake  to 
think  that  the  forty-pounders  are  less  game  than 
their  younger  companions.  I  dare  say  some  of 
these  large  fish,  like  the  smaller  ones,  will  act 
very  sluggishly  at  times:  there  is  no  accounting 
for  their  whims.  Of  the  many  large  fish  I  have 
taken  of  forty  pounds  or  more,  I  remember  only 
three  which  seemed  disinclined  to  give  a  bit  of 
sport.  The  rest  were  wild,  raving  terrors.  One  of 
forty-four  pounds  sprang  clear  out  of  the  water, 
and,  seizing  the  fly,  in  three  successive  leaps  got 
half-way  across  the  pool,  with  forty  or  fifty  yards 
of  line  cutting  the  water  like  a  knife.  Suddenly 
he  turned,  and,  with  a  tremendous  bound,  sped 
away  for  freedom ;  but  the  delicate  little  fly  held 
fast,  and,  with  the  rod  bending  like  a  bow  and  the 
reel  singing  its  merry  tune,  we  found  ourselves  fly- 
ing along  the  current,  chasing  something  which 

79 


seemed  almost  uncanny.  After  a  while  we  got 
close  enough  for  the  gaff,  and  by  a  quick  stroke  of 
the  paddle  the  canoe  shot  forward,  when  James, 
sending  the  gaff  deep  into  the  shoulder,  lifted  the 
grand  old  salmon  into  the  canoe.  As  most  of  my 
large  salmon  have  given  me  some  thrilling  experi- 
ences, I  prefer  the  killing  of  large  fish.  I  remem- 
ber hooking  a  thirty-five-pound  salmon  in  the  tail, 
and  another  of  forty-two  pounds  in  the  side.  Had 
I  lost  these  fish  without  seeing  them,  I  should  have 
thought  something  mighty  had  seized  the  fly.  The 
one  of  forty-two  pounds  took  me  half  a  mile  down 
the  river  before  I  could  land  him,  the  fish  was  so 
large,  and  being  hooked  in  the  side  it  made  it  im- 
possible to  bring  him  to  the  canoe  without  losing 
a  lot  of  time.  So  after  wearing  him  out  we  pad- 
dled toward  the  middle  of  the  river  and  gaffed  him 
in  the  swift  water;  he  was  the  hardest  fighting 
salmon  I  ever  killed. 

An  angler  on  the  Cascapedia  once  played  a 
salmon  three  and  a  half  hours,  and  finally  lost  th«« 
fish  by  breaking  the  leader.  I  heard  that  another 
angler,  after  playing  a  salmon  three  hours,  lost  his 
fish  in  the  same  way.  Both  of  these  salmon  were 
seen  before  they  broke  the  casts,  and  were  supposed 
to  have  been  of  extraordinary  size.  I  knew  the 
men  of  one  of  the  canoes,  and  they  told  me  that 
their  fish  would  weigh  seventy  pounds.  They 
were  both  experienced  canoemen,  and  no  doubt 

80 


believed  the  salmon  to  have  been  prodigious ;  but 
I  think  they  were  excited  and  overjudged  the 
weight  of  tin-  fish,  for  I  have  never  seen  a  salmon 
in  the  Cascapedia  which  I  thought  would  weigh 
over  sixty  pounds,  and  I  have  looked  in  every  pool 
at  low  water  from  Lazy  Bogan  down.  It  is  very 
uncertain  judging  the  weight  of  a  salmon  in  the 
water,  especially  if  ho  is  very  long,  for  the  longest 
are  often  the  thinnest,  which  is  always  the  case 
with  the  males.  When  salmon  enter  the  river  and 
are  in  good  condition,  they  weigh  nearly  as  many 
pounds  as  they  are  inches  in  length;  of  course 
tln're  are  exceptions. 

It  was  reported  in  camp  one  day  that  a  very 
large  salmon  had  been  lost  by  an  angler  up  the 
river.  All  the  guards  were  told  to  have  an  eye  for 
this  monster  fish,  as  the  angler  thought  that 
his  salmon,  being  badly  hurt,  would  surely  die  and 
drift  down-stream.  Three  days  later  a  friend  of 
mine  killed  the  very  same  fish  two  miles  below, 
with  a  part  of  the  leader  dangling  from  its  mouth. 
The  salmon  weighed  twenty-seven  pounds,  and 
was  presented  to  the  disconsolate  sportsman. 
"  The  lost  fish  are  always  the  largest."  During  the 
number  of  years  I  have  been  on  the  river  I  have 
seen  only  four  grilse.  Although  many  are  taken  in 
the  Restigouche,  the  Cascapedia  seems  quite  free 
from  them. 

About  the  twentieth  of  June  large  numbers  of 

81 


sea-trout  come  up  the  river,  and  while  they  are 
resting  on  the  bare  or  in  some  shallow  pool  grand 
sport  may  be  had  fishing  for  them  with  a  light  rod. 
One  should  use  a  reel  holding  thirty  or  forty  yards 
of  line,  for  the  trout  are  large,  weighing  from  one 
to  five  pounds,  and  often  they  will  start  off  like  a 
salmon,  obliging  one  to  follow  in  the  canoe. 


THE   RUNS  AND  VARIETIES 

HAVE  been  told  by  some  of  the  old 
net-fishermen  on  the  Cascapedia  that 
there  are  three  runs  of  salmon  during 
June  and  July,  and  each  a  different 
variety.  The  first  run,  they  say,  comes  in  during 
the  last  of  May  and  first  part  of  June,  the  second 
arrives  about  the  middle  of  June,  and  the  third 
some  time  after  the  fifth  of  July.  Whether  this 
is  true  or  not  I  cannot  say,  but  I  do  know  that 
salmon  are  continually  coming  into  the  river  from 
the  last  of  May  until  the  last  of  July,  and  no 
doubt  during  August  there  are  a  few  stragglers. 
From  the  first  of  June  till  the  last  the  river  seems 
to  be  full  of  fish.  After  this  time  the  lower  part 
does  not  contain  as  many,  for  most  of  them  have 
gone  farther  up ;  and,  it  being  very  late,  there  are 
only  a  few  coming  in.  I  have  observed  the  three 
following  varieties,  which  the  natives  call  the  first 
run,  the  red-fins,  and  the  green-backs:  The  first 
run  is  that  which  arrives  about  the  last  of  May; 
these  are  the  bright  silver  salmon  upon  which  all 

83 


anglers  love  to  gaze  and  are  eager  to  capture. 
The  red-fins  come  along  the  last  of  June;  although 
I  believe  they  average  more  in  weight,  they  are 
not  so  long  in  proportion  to  their  size  as  the  first 
run.  Their  fins  have  a  peculiar  red  shade,  and 
their  bodies  from  the  anal  nearly  to  the  pectoral 
fins  have  a  more  golden  tint,  but  their  backs  have 
the  same  green  color  as  the  first  run.  We  know 
that  salmon  change  in  color  after  they  have  been 
a  few  weeks  in  the  river.  Their  backs  grow  darker, 
and  the  bright  silver  appearance  of  their  bodies 
turns  to  something  more  like  copper-color.  The 
fins  put  on  a  reddish  hue,  the  spots  about  the  gills 
increase  in  size,  and  altogether  they  are  not  par- 
ticularly interesting  to  look  upon.  The  peculiar 
color  of  the  red-fins  is  not  due  to  the  river.  They 
must  have  had  it  when  they  entered,  because  they 
have  this  color  when  their  backs  are  green,  and  this 
denotes  they  are  fresh-run  fish.  The  third  variety, 
the  green-backs,  arriving  late  in  the  season,  do 
look  a  little  brighter  than  th<  ir  companions  lying 
at  the  bottom  of  the  pool.  This  is  perfectly  nat- 
ural, because,  being  fresh-run  fish,  their  backs 
would  be  lighter  in  color  than, those  of  salmon 
which  arrived  early  in  June.  But  how  can  we 
account  for  the  back  of  a  fresh-run  green-back 
being  lighter  in  color  than  that  of  a  fresh-run 
salmon  T  Are  the  natives  right,  and  have  we 
three  varieties  in  the  river  f  The  only  difference 

84 


I  have  ever  seen  in  the  Cascapediu  salmon  (with 
the  exception  of  color  and  size)  is  the  position  of 
the  adipose  and  the  anal  fin;  these,  I  notice,  are 
much  iK'aivr  the  tail  in  some  than  in  others. 
Whether  it  denotes  a  different  variety  or  malfor- 
mation, I  am  unable  to  say. 

The  natives  also  tell  me  that  in  some  seasons 
they  have  known  a  good  run  of  salmon  to  come 
into  the  river  in  August,  and  even  late  in  Septem- 
ber they  have  seen  my  lower  pools  well  stocked, 
when  in  the  early  part  of  the  month  hardly  a  fish 
could  be  seen  in  the  same  water.  These  fish  may 
have  dropped  back  to  spawn  from  higher  up  the 
river,  or  they  may  have  refused  on  account  of  the 
logs  to  enter  at  low  water,  and  waited  outside  until 
nearly  breeding-time.  Not  having  been  on  the 
river  in  September,  I  cannot  tell  why  so  many 
occasionally  appear  at  this  time,  but  I  do  not  be- 
lieve there  is  generally  in  September  on  Canadian 
rivers  much  of  a  run. 


THE  RISES 

do  salmon  rise  to  the  flyt  Is  it 
merely  the  desire  for  food  that  causes 
them  to  spring  so  beautifully  out  of 
the  water?  Or  is  it  joy  or  anger  that 
makes  them  take  the  fatal  lures  we  gently 
draw  across  the  stream  f  My  idea  is  that  both  joy 
and  anger  are  the  cause  of  their  misfortune.  I  be- 
lieve that  as  soon  as  salmon  enter  this  cold  north- 
ern river  they  experience  a  sensation  of  happiness. 
What  pleasure  it  must  give  them,  having  escaped 
the  dangers  of  the  deep,  to  go  bounding  up-stream 
on  the  way  to  the  breeding-ground,  where  in  their 
silent  homes  they  bring  forth  th<»ir  young  to 
replenish  the  Grand  Cascapedia!  While  they  are 
in  this  joyful  state  they  love  to  frolic.  They  will 
take  small  bite  of  wood  —  indeed,  they  will  seize 
almost  anything.  But  when  they  have  been  in  the 
river  a  number  of  days  and  the  water  begins  to  fall, 
their  excitement  becomes  less  intense,  and,  gradu- 
ally getting  used  to  the  situation,  they  are  not  as  keen 
to  seize  everything  they  see.  They  are  like  our- 
selves, for  are  we  not  supremely  happy  as  soon  as  we 

86 


get  the  first  glimpse  of  the  river  ?  A  new  life  be- 
gins to  creep  into  our  body,  and  we  are  all  excite- 
ment until  seated  in  the  canoe.  We  cannot,  like 
the  salmon,  seize  the  fly,  but  we  can  for  a  time 
make  the  rod  very  lively,  although  we  know  there 
is  not  the  slightest  chance  of  hooking  a  fish.  Aft«*r 
a  time  we  become  more  rational,  and  go  fishing  in 
a  pleasant  and  peaceful  way.  I  have  caused  many 
an  obstinate  salmon  to  take  the  fly  simply  by  dan- 
gling it  over  him  a  few  minutes,  having  failed  to 
<>nti<»o  him  by  any  other  method.  It  seems  to 
annoy  the  fish.  They  rush  at  it  to  drive  it  away, 
but  it  won't  go ;  and  at  last,  in  desperation,  they 
seize  it  and  are  hooked.  I  attribute  this  entirely 
to  anger.  As  salmon  are  accustomed,  when  in  the 
sea,  to  seize  small  fish  for  food,  the  desire  for  chas- 
ing their  prey  may  exist  when  they  enter  the  river ; 
then,  seeing  the  flies  skipping  about  on  the  surface, 
they  rush  eagerly  at  them  for  the  sport  it  gives, 
although  not  requiring  them  for  nourishment.  If 
their  desire  for  food  gave  us  this  grand  sport,  and 
the  beautiful  pictures  they  make  when  they  leap 
for  the  fly,  would  we  not  at  times  find  something 
in  their  stomachs  indicating  such  a  desire  T  Most 
anglers  agree  that  salmon  do  not  feed  in  fresh 
water,  and  I  am  told  that,  through  some  process 
which  takes  place  in  the  stomach  while  in  the  river, 
they  become  utterly  incapable  of  digesting  food.  I 
was  once  fishing  for  a  few  days  in  the  Flat  Lands 

87 


on  tho  Restigoucho  River.  One  evening,  toward 
sunset,  while  sitting  in  my  canoe,  I  saw  a  salmon 
rise  and  seize  a  small  butterfly  which  was  drift- 
ing with  the  current  The  butterfly  had  hardly 
disappeared  when  I  again  noticed  it  on  the  surface 
of  the  river  a  short  distance  below.  Now  if  the 
salmon  had  desired  this  insect  for  food  I  do  not 
believe  he  would  have  permitted  it  to  escape  so 
easily.  Another  time,  when  I  was  reeling  in  a 

jrr ly  y-'Un^  tn.ut    whi«-h    ha-1    risen    t<»    my  l.iir 

gray  fly,  a  large  salmon  rushed  fiercely  for  him, 
but  turned  away  quite  as  quickly,  showing  that 
his  intention  was  only  the  chase. 

If  salmon  feed  in  fresh  water,  why  should  they 
not  weigh  as  much  fifty  miles  from  the  mouth  of 
the  river  as  they  do  at  fifteen  f  They  may  lose  a 
few  pounds  in  the  fatigue  of  running  up  to  tli 
homes,  but  with  three  or  four  weeks9  rest  and 
plenty  to  eat  it  seems  as  though  they  should  re- 
gain their  weight. 

A  salmon  forty-eight  inches  in  length  which  I 
killed  at  Lazy  Began  weighed  only  thirty-six 
pounds;  one  of  thirty-nine  inches  weighed  only 
thirty  pounds.  They  were  both  female  fish  and 
looked  in  good  condition.  Nearly  all  that  I  killed 
at  Lazy  Began  have  weighed  much  less  in  propor- 
tion to  their  length  than  those  taken  in  the  lower 
part  of  the  river,  which  I  think  again  proves 
that  salmon  do  not  feed  in  fresh  water.  I  have 

88 


used  sunken  bait — artificial  minnows — and  in  vari- 
ous ways  tried  to  hook  them,  but  without  success,  so 
it  seems  that  it  is  more  in  sport  they  rise  to  the  fly. 
Tho  most  wonderful  feature  of  their  habits  is 
the  instinct  which  leads  them  to  return  to  the  same 
river  which  they  left  the  season  before  to  explore 
tho  mysteries  of  the  sea.    They  surely  must  re- 
member and  recognize  some  peculiarity  in  the  con- 
dition of  the  stream  as  it  flows  out  into  the  bay  and 
meets  them  on  their  annual  return  to  fresh  water. 
We  all  know  that  heavy  freshets  bring  good  fly- 
fishing.    The  reason  is  that  the  heavier  the  volume 
of  water  flowing  into  the  bay,  the  farther  out  the 
salmon  must  meet  it  and  know  it  to  be  the  water  of 
their  home.    They  then  follow  it  up  immediately 
to  the  river,  and  thus  escape  the  nets.    Low  water, 
on  the  other  hand,  brings  a  harvest  to  the  net-fish- 
erman.   This  would  indicate  that  the  salmon,  not 
meeting,  as  they  expected,  any  fresh  water  out  in 
the  bay,  and  knowing  they  had  come  far  enough  to 
find  it,  seek  this  fresh  water  nearer  the  shore  ;  and 
while  they  are  cruising  about  trying  to  find  it  they 
are  caught  by  the  nets.     I  do  not  believe  in  the 
theory  that  many  salmon  are  taken  in  the  nets 
while  they  are  chasing  small  fish  toward  the  shore 
for  food.     They  no  doubt  feed  when  in  the  bay, 
because  food  has  been  found  in  their  stomachs; 
but  just  as  soon  as  they  find  fresh  water,  in  they 
rush  on  their  way  to  happiness  and  misfortune. 

89 


DO  SALMON  HEAR! 

|O  salmon  hear?  This  is  a  question 
often  asked.  Kind  Nature  has  allowed 
them  to  distinguish  sound  without 
burdening  them  with  those  horrible 
appendages,  the  ears.  We  all  know  that  a  trout 
will  dart  forth  from  beneath  the  bank  as  we  pass, 
although  he  sees  us  not  Here,  no  doubt,  vibration 
is  the  cause  of  his  uneasiness,  for  he  certainly  did 
not  hear  us.  Now  carefully  crawl  to  the  bank 
without  causing  any  vibration ;  then  let  some  one 
fire  a  gun  quite  a  distance  away.  The  trout  will 
refuse  to  take  the  fly  or  bait,  and  sometimes  you 
will  see  them  darting  here  and  there,  in  a  state  of 
anxiety  bordering  on  madness,  until  they  have 
found  some  quiet  little  place  in  which  they  feel 
safe.  This  time  it  is  not  the  vibration  of  the 
bank,  but  the  noise  made  by  the  firing  of  the  gun, 
which  has  frightened  them.  When  fishing  salmon 
I  have  had  similar  experiences  regarding  their 
hearing,  which  makes  me  believe  they  are  very 

90 


acute  in  distinguishing  sound  and  will  not  take 
the  fly  until  some  time  after  the  noise  has  ceased. 
One  day  at  CoulPs  Pool,  a  part  of  my  own  water,  I 
was  having  good  sport  until  we  discovered,  half 
a  mile  below  and  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
river,  Joseph  Cornier  coming  up  the  beach  with 
his  old  bay  mare  to  haul  logs  from  the  bank.  As 
tlio  horses'  shoes  struck  the  stones  in  the  bed  of 
the  river,  they  made  such  a  noise  that  it  seemed 
useless  trying  any  longer;  however,  we  kept  on, 
not  getting  even  a  rise.  After  a  time,  giving  up 
all  hope  of  doing  anything,  I  told  the  men  to  take 
me  ashore;  but  as  we  knew  there  were  a  good 
many  salmon  in  the  pool,  we  disliked  the  idea 
of  going  away,  so  decided  to  wait  and  try  after 
Cornier  had  stopped  hauling.  Now  Cornier  was  a 
most  agreeable  and  obliging  fellow,  and,  being 
anxious  to  do  us  a  favor,  he  knocked  off  work 
much  sooner  than  we  expected.  Very  naturally 
we  were  delighted  when  we  saw  him  depart,  for  we 
hoped  to  have  some  more  sport.  Wishing  to  give 
the  salmon  time  enough  to  get  over  their  fright,  I 
turned  over  on  the  grass  for  another  forty  winks ; 
but  I  had  hardly  closed  my  eyes,  it  seemed,  when 
Harrison,  waking  me  suddenly,  said :  "  Better  come 
now  —  just  saw  two  salmon  rise." 
"  My  waking  thoughts,  the  dream  that  gilds  my  sleep, 
The  noontide  reverie,  all  are  given  to  thee  —  to  thee 
alone,  to  thee  alone." 

91 


K  ashing  to  the  canoe,  we  were  quickly  anchored 
on  the  pool ;  and  in  another  half-hour  I  had 
brought  to  gaff  three  fine  fish  from  the  very  same 
place  in  which  we  could  not  get  a  rise  while  the 
old  bay  mare  was  wading  about  below  and  pound- 
ing on  the  bottom. 

Another  time,  when  I  was  fishing  a  pool  in  front 
of  the  club-house,  one  of  the  guards  some  three 
hundred  yards  below  the  house,  believing  I  had 
gone  up  the  river,  fired  his  rifle.  The  report  was 
very  startling:  it  echoed  through  the  mountains 
and  died  away  in  a  dull  sound  in  the  distance. 
Presently  he  fired  again,  and  before  I  had  the  pool 
half  whipped  still  another  report  was  heard.  This 
was  beginning  to  be  wearisome.  Pulling  up  the 
killii-k,  we  turned  homeward,  and  had  just  started 
to  cross  when  the  guard  appeared.  Of  course  he 
apologized,  saying  he  was  very  sorry  and  had  no 
idea  we  were  so  near.  Thinking  it  of  no  use  to 
try  the  same  pool  again  until  it  had  taken  a  rest, 
we  anchored  in  another  a  hundred  yards  below. 
Here  also  we  failed  to  get  a  fish.  Believing  the 
noise  had  frightened  the  salmon,  I  decided  to 
return  to  the  club-house  and  wait  till  after  lun- 
cheon, when  I  would  give  them  another  trial.  About 
three  o'clock  we  again  started  out,  killing  two 
fish  in  the  pool  opposite  and  one  in  the  pool  below. 
I  am  sure  the  firing  was  the  cause  of  our  failure  to 
get  these  salmon  in  the  morning. 


Thus  salmon  have  a  quick  oar  for  danger;  but 
I  do  not  believe  that  the  sound  of  distant  thunder 
or  any  noise  which  does  not  mean  danger  has  the 
least  effect  upon  them,  any  more  than  the  falling  of 
lives  or  the  cracking  of  ice  in  the  lakes  has  upon 
any  of  the  wild  animals  roaming  the  woods.  They 
are  familiar  sounds,  and  are  not  noticed ;  but  if  you 
cough,  sneeze,  or  make  the  slightest  mistake  when 
following  some  tough  old  caribou  over  the  hills, 
away  he  will  bound,  and  lucky  indeed  is  the 
sportsman  who  can  overtake  him  again.  I  believe 
that  not  only  can  salmon  hear  perfectly  well,  but 
that  they  are  able  to  tell  what  sounds  forebode 
danger.  I  have  never  taken  any  while  the  striking 
of  sockets  is  heard,  the  firing  of  guns,  the  wading 
of  horses,  or  any  loud  unfamiliar  disturbance. 
My  advice  to  all  is,  when  on  a  pool  drop  the  killick 
gently — be  sure  that  salmon  can  both  see  and  hear 
you.  Do  not  make  a  noise ;  caution  your  men  not 
to  hit  the  sides  of  the  canoe  with  their  paddles,  or 
with  their  pipes  when  knocking  out  the  ashes; 
do  not  raise  your  voice ;  keep  quiet ;  be  as  careful  as 
if  you  were  stalking  some  crafty  old  moose  through 
the  forest :  and  then,  with  a  fly  well  thrown,  if  you 
fail  the  fault  lies  not  with  the  angler. 

I  have  read  that  different  sounds  have  been  com- 
municated, through  an  instrument  similar  to  a  tele- 
phone, to  salmon  in  a  tank.  To  some  of  these 
music  evidently  hath  charm,  for  certain  tunes  ap- 

93 


peared  to  elate  their  spirits,  causing  them  to  rise 
and  fall  as  if  dancing  to  the  sweet  strains.  Other 
tunes,  on  the  contrary,  seemed  to  have  a  depress- 
ing effect,  as  they  remained  motionless.  This 
quite  agrees  with  my  theory  that  salmon  are  able 
to  hear,  and  while  some  sounds  do  not  disturb 
them,  others  are  most  alarming. 


94 


THE  KELTS 

HOULD  my  friends  be  unfortunate 
enough  to  hook  a  kelt,  or  "  slink,"  as 
they  are  more  familiarly  called  by 
Cascapedia  natives,  do  not  allow  the 
canoemen,  especially  if  it  be  your  first  fish,  to  im- 
pose on  you  this  long,  thin,  attenuated-looking 
creature  and  gaff  him  for  a  bright  salmon.  If  you 
do,  there  will  come  over  you,  while  you  are  being 
poled  up  the  river  in  the  twilight,  a  feeling  of 
doubt  and  disappointment  about  the  wonderful 
tales  you  have  heard  of  this  bright,  leaping  fish. 
But  the  men  will  say :  "  Why,  he  's  all  right ! 
That 's  a  nice  salmon,  only  a  little  thin ! "  and  will 
prevail  on  you  to  take  it  to  camp  to  show  your 
friends  what  a  beauty  you  have  killed.  Do  not  let 
them  play  the  joke.  It  is  a  little  trick  of  theirs 
that  they  practise  on  the  beginner. 

Kelt  is  a  name  given  to  the  salmon  which  have 
remained  in  the  river  all  winter,  and,  when  the  ice 
melts  in  the  spring,  come  down  on  their  way  to  the 
sea.  At  this  time  they  are  very  poor  and  thin,  but 

95 


will  rise  most  eagerly,  much  to  the  annoyance  of 
the  angler,  as,  not  being  suitable  for  food,  they  are 
of  little  use.  Besides,  it  is  not  considered  sports- 
manlike to  kill  them,  for  they  are  supposed  to  go 
to  the  sea,  returning  the  following  spring  bright, 
beautiful  salmon.  It  takes  a  long  time  to  play 
them  sufficiently,  so  that  one  can  remove  the  fly 
without  causing  any  injury;  but  when  this  is  done, 
rejoicing  in  their  freedom,  away  they  go  on  their 
happy  journey,  to  return  again  decked  in  all  their 
silvery  hues.  The  kelts  usually  say  "au  revoir* 
for  the  season  from  June  fifteenth  to  the  twen- 
tieth, to  the  pleasure  of  alL 

A  dear  friend  of  mine,  who  has  long  since  cast 
his  last  fly,  on  his  first  visit  to  Red  Camp  hooked 
a  very  large  salmon  which  took  him  three  miles 
down  the  river.  It  was  so  dark  by  the  time  he  had 
got  the  fish  near  the  canoe  that  the  men  had  great 
difficulty  in  gaffing.  It  proved,  however,  to  be  a 
kelt  of  twenty-eight  pounds.  As  it  was  his  first 
experience  in  salmon-fishing,  he  was  delighted ;  so 
we  said  nothing.  But  I  shall  never  forget  the  ex- 
pression of  doubt  and  fear  that  came  into  his  face 
when  he  asked  us  to  come  and  see  his  salmon. 
Something  seemed  to  worry  him  as  he  gazed  upon 
this  slim,  emaciated  slink  lying  upon  the  lawn ;  but 
as  we  complimented  him  upon  having  captured 
such  a  splendid  fish,  his  countenance  brightened, 
and  he  entered  the  house  happy. 

96 


THE  ROCKS 

OCKS  afford  a  resting-place  for  salmon 
on  their  way  up  the  river,  and  if  there 
are  none  in  the  pools  you  are  fishing, 
do  not  fail  to  have  some  put  in.  In 
deep,  swift  water  I  have  been  very  successful 
where  formerly  without  the  rocks  I  failed  to  get 
even  a  rise,  and  late  in  the  season  salmon  have 
been  seen  lying  behind  these  very  same  rocks.  I 
have  always  had  good  results  by  placing  them 
near  the  shore  in  three  or  four  feet  of  water; 
the  only  difficulty  in  shallow  water  is,  they  are 
apt  to  be  swept  away  by  the  ice-jam  as  it  moves 
down  the  river  in  the  spring.  Only  a  few  rocks 
are  necessary  for  each  pool.  Do  not  place  them  in 
lino  with  each  other,  but  scatter  them  over  the 
bottom  about  thirty  or  forty  feet  apart.  Should 
the  pool  be  small,  two  or  three  are  sufficient.  If 
more  are  put  in,  it  is  liable  to  be  ruined,  because, 
lying  close  together,  they  cause  a  whirling  motion 
at  the  bottom,  and  salmon  very  seldom  rest  in  this 
kind  of  water. 

97 


There  is  a  rock  in  the  Cascapedia  called  the 
u  Heckscher  Rock."  It  may  be  seen  at  any  ordi- 
nary height  of  the  river  as  a  landmark  lying  just 
at  the  water's  edge.  During  a  heavy  freshet  my 
friend,  on  account  of  whom  the  rock  has  become 
famous,  succeeded  in  enticing  from  beneath  its 
eddies  a  number  of  large  salmon.  As  he  usually 
finds  at  high  water  one  or  two  fish  near  this  rock, 
I  decided  to  place  some  along  the  beach,  but  a 
little  farther  out  in  the  river,  hoping  thus  to  hold 
many  more  of  the  first  run.  I  tried  the  scheme, 
an«l  was  delighted  with  the  experiment,  for  nearly 
every  day  during  the  freshet  salmon  would  rise 
along  this  stretch  of  water,  proving  conclusively 
that  the  rocks  are  a  benefit  to  some  parte  of  the 
rivrr. 


A  TRIP  TO  BED  CAMP 

"  'T  was  in  the  summer-time  so  sweet, 
When  hearts  and  flowers  are  both  in  season." 

f<  >ULD  you  like  to  go  salmon-fishing 

with  met" 
"  Of  course,"    replied    my    friend ; 

"  I  should  be  delighted." 
So  in  June,  19 — ,  our  party,  consisting  of  my 
wife,  my  friend  Mr.  J.  Q.  Heckscher,  two  servants, 
and  Mixer,  an  Irish  terrier,  who  was  every  bit  as 
eager  for  the  sport  as  ourselves,  might  be  seen 
slowly  approaching  the  Cascapedia  station.  The 
little  party,  worn  out  by  a  fatiguing  night's  jour- 
ney, were  lolling  about  in  their  seats,  no  doubt 
thinking  of  the  many  big  salmon  they  were  to  kill 
and  the  bright  and  happy  days  before  them  in 
this  great  wilderness.  At  the  sight  of  the  river 
their  drowsiness  suddenly  disappears ;  all  fatigue 
is  forgotten.  Now  they  are  keen,  their  bodies 
are  imbued  with  new  life ;  and  Mixer,  hearing  the 
screech  of  the  locomotive,  speaks  his  delight  by 
wagging  his  tail  and  jumping  all  over  me.  The 

99 


small  gripsacks  are  seized,  the  rods  are  ten<l<  1 1\ 
lifted,  and  as  soon  as  the  train  rolls  up  to  the 
station  we  hasten  out  of  the  car,  thankful  indeed 
to  be  back  again  among  the  dear  old  mountains. 
Nodding  to  familiar  faces,  shaking  hands  with  the 
lees  timid  natives,  and  giving  instructions  to  the 
servants  to  follow  as  quickly  as  possible  with  the 
luggage,  we  jump  into  the  two-seated  trap  and 
are  whirled  away  for  a  delightful  six  miles  up  the 
valley  of  the  Cascapedia  to  my  fishing-lodge,  Bed 
Camp. 

What  a  charming  sensation  it  gives  one,  as  he 
speeds  along  the  road,  to  inhale  the  fresh,  bracing 
air  perfumed  with  the  healing  fir  and  cedar !  No 
cares  or  troubles  to  worry  about  now.  They  are 
thrown  to  these  delightful  breezes,  and  the  faster 
we  go  the  sooner  they  disappear,  until  we  are  well 
content  and  at  peace  with  all  the  worM. 

On  some  door-step  stands  an  old  man  waving 
his  hands  as  we  pass,  welcoming  our  return.  He 
once  loved  the  sport,  and  the  sight  of  our  merry 
party  doubtless  brings  fresh  to  his  memory  the 
happy  days  of  his  youth.  Farther  on  a  little 
handkerchief  flutters  in  the  wind,  showing  we  are 
remembered  by  some  gentle  maid  who  has  not 
forgotten  a  simple  act  of  kindness.  It  is  pleasant 
to  have  all  this  greeting,  and  to  feel  that  we  are 
with  friends,  although  many  miles  separate  us  from 
our  homes.  Even  the  birds  seem  glad,  for  as  we 

100 


, 


mil  aloiitf  th('ir  songs  fill  tin*  air  with  welcome. 
And  so  we  drive  on,  the  fair  scenery  ever  changing 
until  we  reach  the  top  of  Woodman's  Hill.  From 
here  one  has  the  first  view  of  Red  Camp,  standing 
amid  the  trees  in  the  distance,  a  silent  guard  of 
the  river.  And  such  tales  couM  it  tell  of  the  bat- 
tit -s  with  salmon  that  wise  people  might  say  nay! 
Down  the  hill  we  go,  rushing  across  the  tumble- 
down bridge  that  spans  White  Brook,  whose 
waters,  clear  as  crystal,  find  their  way  to  the 
river;  then  up  a  slight  knoll;  and  then,  with  an 
extra  crack  of  the  whip,  away  we  speed  across  the 
plain  to  a  big  white  gate,  which  is  quickly  thrown 
open ;  and,  pulling  up  at  the  door,  we  are  at  last  at 
Red  Camp. 

Oh,  how  good  it  is  to  be  back  again  and  once 
more  to  gaze  upon  the  old  red  house  !  Well  have 
its  shiugles  withstood  the  storms  of  the  winter; 
they  seem  to  grow  brighter  and  brighter  at  our 
arrival,  and  the  little  white  linen  curtains  peeping 
out  from  the  windows  add  even  a  greater  charm. 
The  old  tree  at  the  garden,  the  willows  planted 
many  years  ago  —  all  look  fresher  and  younger. 
Even  the  river  flowing  at  the  foot  of  the  sloping 
field  is  more  beautiful  than  ever,  and  the  weird 
old  mountains  surrounding  the  camp  seem  to  have 
taken  on  new  grandeur;  in  fact,  everything  has 
become  dearer  since  I  last  left  this  restful  spot. 
A  feeling  of  sadness  comes  over  me  when  I 

101 


enter  the  lodge,  for  I  miss  my  white  fox- terriers, 
Peggy  and  Jack  —  my  beloved  companions  on 
many  a  fishing  trip.  They  were  always  ready  for 
a  lark,  and  every  night  they  would  watch  for  me 
at  tin*  landing  until  I  came  in  from  fishing,  rejoic- 
ing in  having  me  return  so  quickly.  They  can  be 
s.M'ii  in  the  picture  called  " Guarding  Salmon,"  and 
they  were  just  as  happy  in  doing  anything  else 
that  was  pleasing  to  me.  Both  of  those  little 
friends  are  now  dead,  and  rest  in  a  quiet  corner 
near  my  home  away  down  by  the  sea. 

Mixer  is  a  great  sport,  most  affectionate,  and  a 
good  fellow  in  the  canoe.  He  simply  loves  to  go 
fishing,  and  will  watch  the  line  cutting  through 
the  water  as  eagerly  and  attentively  as  any  of  my 
canoemen.  When  the  salmon  jumps  he  seems 
•  in  banted,  and  gives  a  most  fascinating  little  bark. 
Rut  he  will  never  make  me  forget  Peggy  and  Jack. 
How  many  a  story  could  I  tell  of  their  tine 
affection, 

"That  love,  that  strength  of  feeling,  great 
Beyond  all  human  estimate !  * 

But  I  forbear. 

Having  said  merry  greetings  to  all  our  canoe- 
men,  who  beam  with  delight  at  seeing  us  again,  I 
rush  into  the  house,  and  passing  on  through  the 
dining-room  to  the  kitchen,  find  Agnes,  Mary,  and 
Betsy,1  spick  and  span  in  their  new  frocks,  awaiting 

»  Daughters  of  an  early  settler  on  the  rirer,  long  ainee  deeeaaed. 

102 


- \LMON 

These  salmon  v. 

t\v.  ut\  i  i  pounds 


our  coming.  Curtsying  in  their  shy  manner, 
they  remark :  u  Glad  to  have  you  back.  Hope  you 
are  well."  I  am  delighted  to  see  them  again,  and 
after  a  few  remarks  about  the  house  I  leave  my 
wife  to  continue  the  conversation,  which  will  no 
doubt  end  in  learning  all  about  the  winter's  doings 
at  the  village.  I  go  to  the  ever  interesting  old 
fishing-room,  where  I  find  my  friend  already  doz- 
ing before  a  big  fireplace  in  which  the  logs  burn 
bright,  sending  forth  warmth  and  cheerfulness. 
Some  interesting  specimens  of  native  skill  grace 
the  walls  —  forty-  and  fifty-pound  salmon  carved 
in  wood,  reminding  one  of  many  pleasant  associa- 
tions. One  model  of  forty-two  pounds  brings  vividly 
to  memory  the  triumphs  of  a  fair  maiden  whose 
charming  visits  to  the  camp  will  never  be  forgotten. 

"  Wake  up,  Johnny;  it  is  time  to  go  fishing !  " 

"  Are  we  going  to  try  this  afternoon  T  "  It  is  an 
anxious  voice  that  speaks. 

"  Try!  Indeed  we  are ! "  I  exclaim.  "  Nothing 
in  the  world  shall  keep  me  from  doing  honor  to 
the  beautiful  river  this  afternoon.  Let  us  have  a 
look  and  see  if  there  is  any  chance."  So  out  of  the 
house  we  go  a  short  distance  down  the  path  to  the 
bank,  where  we  find  the  canoemen  ready  and  dis- 
cussing the  prospects  for  sport. 

"River's  too  high;  too  many  stones  running," 
says  Harrison.  A  look  of  distress  comes  over  my 
friend's  face. 

103 


"But,"  I  insist,  "don't  you  think  that  back  of 
the  island,  in  that  still  place  where  the  current 
runs  so  slowly,  we  might  pull  out  something? 
There  must  be  a  salmon  resting  there,  and  also 
at  the  head  of  Barter's,  on  the  shoal ;  that  ought 
surely  to  be  good  for  a  fish.  Then  there  IB  Hamil- 
ton Beach.  I  believe  Mr.  Heckscher  can  get  a 
salmon  close  inshore  by  the  rock;  no  stones  are 
running  there." 

After  discussing  the  subject  the  men  decide 
it  would  not  be  a  bad  idea  to  go.  So  we  return 
to  the  house;  rods,  reels,  lines,  and  leaders  are 
brought  out  and  given  to  the  men  to  be  rigged, 
with  instructions  to  soak  the  leaders  while  we  go 
to  adorn  ourselves  with  our  Lovat  mixture  suit- 
able for  the  sport. 

Presently  luncheon  is  announced,  and  three 
anglers,  with  appetite  sharpened  by  the  pleasant 
drive  up  the  valley,  sit  down  to  one  of  Agnes's 
delightful  little  feasts.  I  try  to  help  in  the  con- 
versation, but  my  heart  is  in  that  quiet  pool  away 
down  back  of  the  island.  Making  some  excuse, 
Mixer  and  I  depart  From  a  cupboard  in  the  cor- 
ner of  the  fishing-room  I  bring  forth  my  big  green 
tin  box  and  carefully  raise  the  lid.  Behold  my 
plumed  knights !  They  surpass  in  their  beauty  the 
dazzling  costumes  of  Oriental  princes.  Tucked 
away  in  a  little  partition  are  three  conquering  war- 
riors whose  armor,  once  bright  as  silver,  shows 

104 


of  mortal  combats.  In  another  }>art  li«-s  a 
faded  "Fairy"  who  gallantly  won  her  fight  at  the 
Pool  in  the  Woods.  One  dark,  fascinating  little 
fisher-maiden,  lying  alone  in  her  glory,  might  tell 
how  she  wooed  and  won  the  grand  old  king  bim- 
><  It  :  ,ni(l  many  a  battered  knight  shows  the  marks 
of  struggles  long  ago. 

I  select  some  large-sized  "  Silver  Grays,"  newly 
decked  in  all  their  glorious  colors,  and  hasten  to 
the  landing,  where  I  find  my  men  waiting.  As  I 
am  about  to  step  into  the  canoe  I  hear  some  one 
calling,  and,  turning,  see  my  friend  Napoleon,1  with 
rod  on  his  shoulder,  coming  down  the  path  toward 
the  shore.  "I,  too,  have  the  fever! "he  exclaims. 

"  Good  for  you  !  Hurry  up  and  we  will  paddle 
<  low  11  together."  With  canoes  locked,  we  glide 
along,  occasionally  bumping  against  each  other  in 
the  swiftly  running  current,  too  happy  to  speak, 
but  realizing  that  again  we  are  on  the  Grand  Cas- 
capedia.  As  we  paddle  along,  hundreds  of  swallows 
peep  out  from  their  dark  nests  in  the  banks,  and  a 
few  Jerseys  are  seen  grazing  in  the  green  fields  of 
the  Milligans  at  the  foot  of  the  stately  mountains 
not  far  away.  It  is  said  that  the  old  man's  ghost 
may  often  be  seen  at  night  walking  up  the  valley 
t«>  his  house,  and  there  are  tales  of  other  wonderful 
doings  across  the  river.  But  there  is  no  more  time 
for  romancing  now,  for  yonder  lies  the  island. 

i  J.  O.  Heckscher. 

105 


With  "Au  revoir"  and  "Good  luck!"  I  leave  my 
friend  to  continue  onward  to  the  beach,  while  my 
canoemen  send  our  frail  little  craft  skipping  across 
the  current  toward  the  shore,  and  gently  drop  the 
killirk  in  the  pool  back  of  the  island. 

"If  there  are  any  salmon  here,  James,  they 
should  be  close  to  the  shore  just  above  the  rapids 
—  don't  you  think  so  t " 

"Yes,  but  they  might  be  a  little  farther  out 
The  water  isnt  very  swif' 

"I  should  try  both  sides,"  exclaimed  William. 
44  V<»u  < -an't  tell  where  they  are  when  the  water  is 
high  like  this.  They  might  be  right  in  those  bushes 
there.  Didn't  I  tell  you!"  as  a  large  fish  threw 
himself  clear  of  the  water. 

"  What  a  fine  salmon  ! "  exclaimed  James.  "  He 
must  have  just  come  up  the  rapids.  Better  try 
him  at  once." 

Rising  from  my  seat,  with  knees  and  arms  steady, 
I  commence  getting  out  the  right  length  of  line. 

"  Now  be  careful,'9  says  James,  "  and  hook  him." 

When  the  5/0  Silver  Gray  goes  back  for  the  last 
time  the  rod  springs  forward,  sending  the  big  gray 
fly  swiftly  through  the  air  and  dropping  it  about 
eight  feet  to  the  left  of  the  place  where  the  salmon 
rose.  Hardly  have  I  moved  it  when  James  shouts : 
"He's  on;  strike  hard!"  Up  goes  the  rod,  and 
I  know  he  is  fast  The  killick  is  pulled  in,  poles 
are  seized,  and  all  await  the  combat  Quickly  it 

106 


begins,  for  the  salmon,  with  a  grand  rush,  is  at  the 
head  of  the  pool.  Ten  feet  more  and  he  will  be  in  the 
bushes ;  but,  suddenly  turning,  back  he  comes  with 
the  speed  of  the  wind,  stopping  to  sulk  a  short  dis- 
tance above  the  rapids. 

"  Now  is  our  chance,  James,  to  get  below  him ! " 

Carefully  we  drop  the  canoe  and,  lowering  my 
rod,  pull  sideways  at  the  fish.  With  a  mighty  whirl 
and  rush,  away  he  goes  down  the  run  to  the  pool 
below. 

"  That  fish  '11  weigh  forty  pounds,"  said  William. 
"  I  saw  his  tail." 

Oh,  ye  gods !  Why,  William,  did  you  say  it  T 
Until  then  I  was  cool  and  enjoying  the  sport ;  but 
now,  at  the  vision  of  a  forty-pounder,  my  first  fish 
of  the  season,  my  knees  are  trembling  and  quaking. 

"  Will  I  save  him,  James  T  " 

"Well,  I  suppose  so;  but  you  must  hold  him 
harder  than  that  or  you  '11  never  get  him  in." 

"  Now  he  is  close ;  look  sharp  and  see  if  he  is 
large." 

"  My  gracious !  he  '11  weigh  fifty  pounds  !  * 

Fifty  pounds !  Is  it  possible  my  dream  of  many 
years  is  to  be  realized  f  Managing  to  steady  my- 
self, I  pull  a  little  harder,  when  William,  looking 
into  the  depths  of  the  muddy  water,  shouts :  "  I 
saw  him  again ;  I  believe  he 's  a  slink  I "  "A 
slink ! "  I  exclaim.  Only  a  slink,  and  but  a  moment 
since  a  glorious  fifty-pounder !  What  a  disappoint- 

107 


ment!  Now  my  courage  returns;  I  spring  the 
rod  a  little  more,  and  he  is  soon  brought  to  gaff — 
a  fresh-run  fish.  In  goes  the  steel,  and  a  twenty- 
eight-pound  salmon  lies  quivering  in  the  canoe. 

"  My,  but  I  thought  that  a  big  salmon  when  I 
saw  his  tail!"  said  William. 

"  I  did  n't  think  it  was  very  large,"  replied  the 
sagacious  James.  "You  know  the  water  is  so 
muddy  you  cant  see  anything." 

"  Well,  here  's  luck,  anyway,  to  the  first  of  the 
season  t  Don't  you  think  we  had  better  try  one  or 
two  drops  at  the  head  of  Barter's  Pool  f  It  is  on 
our  way  up,  and  we  shall  have  time  enough.19 

"  We  might  get  a  fish,"  replies  James ;  "  suppose 
we  do  try." 

Poling  to  the  head,  we  anchor  at  the  little  bar 
where  the  river,  running  swiftly,  broadens  into 
a  deep  pool  by  the  trees.  As  it  is  not  quite  so 
muddy  here,  a  smaller  Silver  Gray,  No.  3/0  is  put 
on ;  and  casting  to  the  right  and  left  until  about 
sixty  feet  of  line  is  spinning  through  the  air,  I  drop 
for  another  try,  without  any  luck.  As  we  are  now 
getting  into  deeper  water,  I  change  to  the  5/0; 
forth  it  goes  again,  with  prayers  for  success. 
Before  it  has  got  half-way  across  the  pool,  out 
comes  one  of  the  shining  beauties,  saying,  "  Nay, 
nay,"  and  quickly  returning  beneath  the  water. 
Again  and  again  the  cast  is  made,  but  not  being  in 
an  inquisitive  mood,  the  fish  vanishes  up-stream  to 

108 


join  his  fleeing  companions.  By  this  time  my 
frirud  is  coming  in  the  distance.  Pulling  up  traps, 
we  go  ashore  to  await  his  arrival.  Presently  he 
appears,  beaming  with  smiles,  so  I  know  some- 
thing has  happened. 

"  I  have  one ! "  he  shouts ;  and  by  the  time  his 
canoe  is  abreast  we  have  heard  all  about  the  kill- 
ing, and  the  big  one  at  the  rock,  which  rose  three 
times,  and  at  last  just  touched  the  fly. 

"  What  a  grand  fish  ! "  I  exclaim.  "  Such  a  per- 
fect head;  so  different  from  mine  with  his  big 
hook  —  but  the  female  fish  are  always  more  beauti- 
ful. Do  you  know  the  weight  f  " 

"  Just  thirty  pounds,"  replied  my  friend. 

"I  am  delighted  you  had  luck." 

"  Why,  my  dear  fellow,  the  dream  of  my  life  is 
realized.  To  see  these  enormous  fish  rise  is  well 
worth  the  journey  up  here,  and  I  am  greatly  in- 
debted to  you  for  much  happiness." 

u  Oh,  bother  the  indebtedness  !  To-morrow  you 
will  get  a  bigger  one.  Let  us  be  off  now,  and  see 
how  comfortable  old  Red  Camp  is  by  firelight."  So 
the  stalwart  natives,  taking  off  their  coats,  seize 
their  poles,  while  the  tired  and  happy  anglers  are 
lulled  to  sleep  by  the  gentle  motion  of  the  canoes 
moving  slowly  along  in  the  gloaming  toward 
camp.  In  the  stillness  of  the  night  a  delightful 
bark  is  heard.  Mixer  has  recognized  the  sound 
of  the  sockets,  and  is  coming  to  the  landing 

109 


to  meet  us.    It  is  his  pleasure,  so  I  caress  the  little 
fellow  as  he  leads  us  to  the  house. 

"I  know  you  have  got  some  fish,  for  you  are 
both  beaming,"  remarks  Mrs.  Davis,  as  we  approach 
the  veranda. 

"Splendid  sport — glorious!  If  I  do  not  kill 
any  more  I  am  satisfied,"  replies  Napoleon. 

"  Oh,  but  you  will  get  many  more  before  you 
leave.  Will  he  not,  Ned  t" 

"Of  course  he  will,  and,  it  is  three  to  one,  a 
forty-pounder.  But  is  it  not  dinner-time f  It 
must  be  nearly  nine." 

"  As  soon  as  you  are  ready,"  replies  Mrs.  Davis, 
"  dinner  will  be  served." 

"  Do  not  be  long,  old  man ;  hurry,  now ! " 

In  a  few  minutes  the  mighty  angler  returns,  the 
Lovat  mixture  discarded,  and  arrayed  in  some- 
thing more  comfortable.  The  little  party  now 
saunters  gaily  to  the  dining-room,  where  an  hour  is 
pleasantly  spent  in  the  dim  light  of  a  few  candles, 
whose  decorations  — the  tiny  red  shades— cast 
their  glow  upon  our  charming  hostess  as  we  listen 
to  her  amusing  conversation.  Then,  returning  to 
the  fishing-room,  Mixer  and  I  take  possession  of 
the  big  black  settle  at  the  fireplace  to  dream  awhile 
of  dear  faces  which  used  to  gladden  the  camp  at 
night,  telling  stories  and  singing  songs  of  praise 
for  some  good  old  angler  long  since  gone  across 
the  Big  River. 

110 


'  I  beg  your  pardon,  Heck ;  I  was  nearly  asleep. 
Let  us  divide  the  water  into  three  parts  for  to- 
morrow's fishing,  and  have  the  drawing  now,  for 
I  am  off  to  bed." 

The  slips  are  cut  and  marked  1,  2,  3,  then  placed 
in  a  hat  and  handed  to  Mrs.  Davis,  who  after  some 
persuasion  is  prevailed  upon  to  draw  first.  Then 
my  friend  pulls  out  No.  3,  and  I  am  left  the 
same  water  I  had  to-day. 

"  Just  what  you  both  wish.  And  now  good  night. 
Will  see  you  at  eight-o'clock  breakfast;  am  too 
tired  to  sit  up  any  longer."  Presenting  my  friend 
with  a  big  red  candlestick,  we  leave  our  cheerful 
room  to  dream  of  happy  doings  on  the  morrow. 


Ill 


THE  SECOND  DAY 

HAT  is  the  largest  fish  I  have  ever 
seen ! "  and  just  as  James  is  about  to 
lift  it  into  the  canoe  there  is  a  rap  on 
the  bedroom  door. 


"  My  thought*  by  day,  my  dreams  by  night, 
Are  bat  of  thee,  of  only  thee." 

"  Time  to  get  up,  sir ! "  calls  my  servant  "  Mr. 
Heckscher  is  dressed,  and  wants  to  know  if  you 
will  be  ready  soon." 

"Toll  him  I  will  be  down  at  once,  and  not  to 
wait  breakfast"  Going  to  my  dressing-room,  I  find 
the  cold  tub  ready  before  the  burning  logs;  so, 
with  a  short  pull  at  the  weights  and  a  plunge,  I 
am  soon  dressed  and  join  my  friend  out  on  the  ve- 
randa. "Good  morning,  Heck;  did  you  sleep  well?" 

"  Oh,  splendidly !  But  let  us  breakfast  now,  for 
I  am  wild  to  be  out  on  the  river  again.  How  is 
Mrs.  Davis  f  Are  we  not  to  have  her  company  f  " 

"  I  do  not  think  so.  She  is  a  bit  tired  from  yes- 
terday's trip.  I  left  her  sleeping.  Her  pools  are 

119 


only  a  short  distance  above  the  house,  so  she 
probably  will  not  fish  before  ten." 

"  By  Jove,  these  eggs  are  good !  When  did  you 
become  an  expert  with  the  chafing-dish  f "  asks 
Napoleon. 

"  Oh,  I  always  use  it  up  here.  I  find  the  eggs 
much  better  when  you  cook  them  yourself." 

"  The  finnan-haddie  with  the  cream  is  delicious." 

"It  is  good,  is  it  notf  Dalzell  sends  me  the 
haddie  every  week,  and  Agues  furnishes  the  won- 
derful cream  from  her  celebrated  stock.  I  will 
show  you  the  Jerseys  when  we  are  out  walking 
some  day.  She  has  also  a  lot  of  young  lambs  and 
chickens,  and  so  arranges  that  they  are  always 
young  —  especially  the  chickens,  which  are  never 
over  six  weeks  old.  Whether  it  is  a  mathematical 
problem  she  figures  out  during  the  winter  I  can- 
not say,  but  I  know  they  are  always  on  hand  and 
most  tender  eating.  You  must  not  fail  to  visit 
Betsy's  delightful  little  vegetable-  and  flower-gar- 
den before  you  leave.  Praise  it  well,  for  every 
day  while  you  are  here  your  room  will  be  deco- 
rated with  some  delicate  attention  from  the  cher- 
ished garden  —  sometimes  an  enormous  bunch  of 
bleeding-hearts,  to  remind  you  of  a  slight  regret." 

"I  have  nothing  to  regret,"  laughs  my  friend, 
rising  from  the  table.  "  Read  the  new  book  which 
tells  us  to  make  life  happy  as  we  live —  not  to  call 
up  the  past.  It  is  gone,  so  let  it  rest." 

113 


"That  is  true,"  I  reply;  "l»ut  I  have  found  so 
very  little  real  friendship  in  my  life,  I  ain  afraid  I 
shall  always  be  romancing  about  some  pleasant 
association,  like  the  person  who  refused  to  forget 
the  old  love  for  the  new  : 

1 11  not  forget,  Old  Year, 

The  days  that  used  to  be; 
Bat  when  the  spring  returns  1 11  twine, 

With  sweetest  flowers,  a  wreath  for  thee. 

1  Then  in  the  paths  we  nsed  to  roam, 
Where  mignonettes  and  lilies  lie, 
I  '11  muse  upon  the  happy  past, 

And  fondly  dream  of  days  gone  by.'  * 

"You  are  quite  right,"  replies  my  frion«l,  "  if 
you  wish  to  worry  and  be  lonely.  But  enough  of 
poetry  this  morning !  The  world  is  all  too  beauti- 
ful up  here  to  think  of  anything  except  the  casting 
of  thefl 

"Hello,  Mixer!  Why  so  late  f  Has  the  journey 
tired  you?  Would  you  like  to  go  fishing?  All 
right,  old  boy.  We  shall  be  off  soon.  Will  meet 
you,  Heck,  at  Harrison's  for  luncheon  at  one 
o'clock.  You  had  better  start  at  once,  as  the  men 
tell  me  the  river  has  fallen  five  inches.  You  will 
not  have  any  time  to  spare  if  you  intend  fishing 
all  of  Hamilton's.  Have  you  the  right  flies 
with  yout* 

114 


>rii  OLE  MIXER 


"  Yes,  the  same  I  used  yesterday." 

ike  a  few  No.  2/0.    The  water  will  be  a  littl«- 
clearer  to-day,  and  you  may  need  them." 

"  I  have  some  in  my  fly-book,  thanks." 

So  they  start  off  again,  Napoleon  and  his  men 
sauntering  joyfully  down  the  path.  For  a  few 
minutes  I  stand  gazing  at  his  canoe  passing  in  the 
distance,  wondering  why  it  is  that  the  charm  of 
angling  more  than  any  other  sport  "  doth  for  a 
time  all  sorrow  heal." 

"Can't  you  be  patient,  Mixer T  We  will  start 
presently.  I  must  first  go  up  and  tell  the  missus 
it  is  time  to  be  out  on  the  pool. 

'  Wake  thee,  my  dear  —  thy  dreaming 

Till  darker  hours  will  keep ; 
While  such  a  sun  is  shining 
Thou  shouldst  be  on  the  deep.' 

"  Are  you  up  !  "  I  call.  "  It  is  a  most  glorious 
day ;  the  sun  is  already  coming  up  over  the  moun- 
tain and  will  soon  be  shining  on  the  Judge's,  so 
you  had  better  make  haste  if  you  wish  to  be  in 
time.  Tim  and  Robert  are  waiting  for  you  on  the 
lawn,  and  look  the  picture  of  despair." 

"  Oh,  are  they  !  Tell  them  I  shall  soon  be  ready, 
and  to  put  my  cane-rod  together  —  the  light  one." 

"  Do  you  wish  anything  else  T  " 

"Nothing,  thanks." 

115 


"You  will  find  all  the  flies  and  leaders  you 
need  in  the  tin  box.  Mixer  and  I  are  off  now ; 
we  are  to  join  Mr.  Heckscher  at  luncheon  down  by 
Harrison's.  Are  you  coming  f " 

"  Not  to-day,  thanks.  It  is  so  far  to  pole  back,  I 
should  lose  all  my  fishing." 

"  Now  I  am  ready,  Mixer.  Come,  old  boy !  "  And 
off  he  scampers  to  the  landing,  where  I  find  him 
comfortably  seated  in  the  canoe.  "Sit  here  by 
me  and  keep  quiet,  old  fellow!  As  soon  as 
we  hook  a  salmon  you  may  be  as  joyful  as 
you  like. 

"  Do  you  think,  James,  there  is  any  use  trying 
back  of  the  island  T " 

"  Not  to-day,  sir ;  the  water  has  fallen  so  much, 
it  is  too  shallow  in  there.  Barter's  should  be 
good,  though.  You  had  better  whip  that  over  on 
our  way  to  Smith's."  Dropping  a  little  farther 
down  the  pool  than  yesterday,  the  canoe  is  again 
silently  anchored. 

"  Did  you  see  that  fish  jump  T  "  shouted  William. 

"  No ;  where  T    I  was  getting  a  fly." 

"  My,  but  he  was  a  big  one !  That  was  a  forty- 
pound  salmon." 

A  re  you  quite  sure  it  was  not  a  slink  T " 

"A  slink!  No,  sir.  No  slink  about  that;  he 
was  too  wide." 

"  What  say  you,  James  T    Can  we  prove  it  T  " 

4t  The  only  way  is  to  hook  him,  sir." 
116 


ik  \Vhat-nowt" 

"  Not  now,  sir.  We  might  get  another  before 
we  reach  that  one." 

k  What  fly  shall  I  use! » 

"  Try  that  Silver  Gray  I  made.  The  one  with 
the  wood-duck  wing  —  about  3/0.  That  is  large 
enough,  and  if  they  won't  take  that  there  *s  no 
use  fishing." 

"  Well,  here  goes  your  fly,  James,  and  may  suc- 
cess reward  your  skill." 

Repeatedly  it  is  cast  forth  and  drawn  across  the 
current  in  all  kinds  of  ways,  without  causing 
the  slightest  longing  in  those  game  uncertainties 
below. 

"  What  is  the  trouble,  James  ?  I  made  a  good 
cast  over  that  salmon." 

"  Perhaps  you  don't  wiggle  my  flies  just  right 
this  season." 

"  Do  you  think  you  could  do  better  t  * 

"  Well,  I  might  try,  sir." 

"  Take  the  rod,  then,  and  see  what  you  can  bring 
forth." 

"  That  is  a  good  hook,"  remarks  James,  as  he 
carefully  brushes  back  the  feathers;  "a  salmon 
ought  to  take  that";  and  away  it  goes,  darting 
quickly  through  the  breeze. 

"  I  thought  you  did  n't  wiggle  it  right ! "  ex- 
claimed James,  as  he  drove  the  hook  home  in  a  big 
salmon  which  leisurely  rolled  up. 

117 


"That  is  all  luck,  James;  that  salmon  has  just 
worked  into  the  pool." 

"  Never  mind,  sir ;  I  9ve  got  him  on.19 

"Yes,  and  you  must  play  him  also." 

"  I  cant,  sir :  the  water  is  too  swift ;  I  have  the 
canoe  to  manage." 

By  the  time  I  have  taken  the  rod  the  salmon  is 
thirty  yards  away.  Mixer  is  enchanted  at  the 
prospect  of  a  race  down  the  river. 

"  That  fish  is  bound  for  the  bay,"  exclaims  Wil- 
liam, as  he  gives  an  extra  stroke  with  the  paddle. 

Faster  and  faster  we  glide  along  in  our  endeavor 
to  overtake  the  salmon,  while  Mixer,  wild  with 
excitement,  is  urging  on  the  men  by  the  music  of 
his  delightful  yelp.  Every  muscle  is  strained  now 
to  win  a  grand  victory. 

"Look  out  for  that  log  I91  shouts  James,  as  the 
salmon  runs  close  to  the  shore.  "Keep  her  off 
more.  Paddle  faster  and  get  below  the  fish." 

Down  the  current  we  rush  past  the  big  rocks, 
when  William,  quickly  turning  the  canoe,  sends 
it  safely  into  the  still  water.  There,  after  a  few 
minutes9  fight,  the  salmon  is  brought  to  gaff. 

"  Thirty-one  pounds  —  and  what  a  dear  I" 

"  As  we  have  come  so  far,  I  think  it  beet  to  go 
and  see  what  Mr.  Heckscher  is  doing;  the  other 
pools  can  be  fished  after  luncheon.19 

"  We  do  feel  a  little  weak  at  the  stomach  after 
the  race,  sir,"  reply  the  men. 

118 


Drifting  around  a  bend  in  the  river,  we  come 
upon  Napoleon  fast  to  a  fish. 

"  He  must  be  big,  the  way  he  is  acting,"  exclaims 
William.  "  He  keeps  going  up  the  river,  and  Mr. 
Heckscher  is  pulling  him  hard,  too.  Now  he  is 
going  back  a  little!  Yes,  he  is  leading  him  all 
right  now !  He  '11  have  him  soon  if  everything 
holds.  Yes,  there  goes  the  gaff!  That's  the 
biggest  fish  this  year !  " 

When  we  reach  the  canoe  the  weight  is  known  — 
forty  pounds,  the  largest  salmon  my  friend  has 
ever  killed.  Of  course  Napoleon  was  delighted ; 
he  never  ceased  singing  anthems  until  I  made  the 
men  gather  some  green  ferns,  and,  carefully  plac- 
ing them  over  the  Silver  Queen,  bear  her  away 
gently  to  the  opposite  shore,  where  she  received 
honors  worthy  her  station. 

"  The  men  usually  lunch  by  one,  Heck ;  and  as 
it  is  now  past  twelve,  you  will  not  have  much  tinio 
to  fish  if  you  go  back  to  the  pool." 

"  Very  well ;  let  us  have  luncheon  now,  for  this 
bracing  air  has  already  attacked  me." 

Spreading  the  white  cloth  smoothly  upon  the 
bank,  we  are  soon  seated  and  going  over  the  story 
of  the  big  salmon  at  Hamilton's  Beach. 

"  The  men  must  be  a  bit  eager  to-day,  Heck. 
They  are  already  returning.  Here  comes  Peter 
Coull  —  one  of  Mr.  Kennedy's  canoemen  and  the 
bear-hunter  of  the  river.  Let  us  ask  him  to  join 

119 


us  in  a  smoke  and  hear  something  about  bear- 
shooting.9 

"Certainly;  ask  him.  I  should  like  to  know 
him." 

44  How  are  you,  Peter  T  Am  glad  to  see  you 
again.  Have  you  had  a  good  winter  t * 

44  Oh,  fairly,  sir.  Logging  and  trapping  do  not 
bring  much  comfort,  but  I  have  been  in  pretty 
good  health,  so  I  can't  complain.  Any  salmon  this 
morning  T  * 

"Yea.  This  is  my  friend  Mr.  Heckscher;  he 
has  just  killed  a  forty-pounder,  and  I  a  thirty- 
OM,1 

"  That  is  good  to  begin  with.9 

"  Mr.  Heckscher  wishes  to  go  bear-hunting  some 
day.  What  do  you  think  the  chances  are  f  * 

"It  is  easy  enough  to  get  a  bear  in  a  trap," 
replied  Peter,  "  but  the  leaves  are  too  thick  for 
still-hunting  at  this  time  of  the  year.  There  should 
be  a  bear  in  my  trap  now.  I  set  it  last  weak 
beyond  that  hill  to  the  west  Will  send  the  boy 
over  to-morrow  and  see  if  there  is  one ;  then,  if 
Mr.  Heckscher  wishes,  Sunday  we  can  go  and 
shoot  him.  It  *s  the  only  day  I  have,  as  the  rest 
of  the  week  I  am  fishing.9 

44 1  should  like  to  go  very  much,  Peter,"  replies 
my  friend,  "  but  I  would  prefer  that  you  do  the 
shooting,  as  I  am  not  at  all  anxious  to  distinguish 
myself  as  a  trap-shot" 

190 


"All  right,  sir;  I  will  kill  him.  I  shoot  them, 
anyway.  If  you  really  wish  good  bear-hunting, 
you  must  come  up  here  in  September.  Then  they 
are  on  the  mountains  eating  s  and  it  is 

easier  to  get  close  to  them  without  being  seen.  It 
will  be  necessary  to  camp  out,  of  course;  but  the 
weather  is  usually  mild,  and  if  you  dont  mind  the 
camping  you  will  have  some  good  sport.  We  could 
also  go  up  to  the  lake  and  have  a  little  moose- 
hunting.  There  are  a  good  many  about  the  head 
waters,  and  I  am  sure  you  would  get  a  fine  head. 
It  is  a  delightful  trip  to  take — only  three  days 
poling.  After  the  moose-hunt  we  will  run  down 
to  the  bay  and  have  a  try  at  the  brant  and  geese. 
We  would  keep  you  busy  if  you  wish  to  shoot, 
hey,  James  f  " 

"  That  we  would,  Peter ;  and  a  grand  time  Mr. 
Heckscher  would  have,  too." 

"  I  am  sure  of  that,"  replied  my  friend ;  "  and  I 
thank  you  both  very  much  for  your  willingness  to 
show  me  the  treasures  of  your  country.  You 
make  the  pictures  so  charming  that  I  am  almost 
tempted  to  make  the  Cascapedia  my  home." 

"If  you  did,  sir,  you  would  live  ten  years 
longer." 

"  Heaven  forbid,  Peter,  that  my  friends  should 
suffer  such  an  affliction." 

"In  a  few  days,  Mr.  Heckscher,  you  will  see 
thousands  of  brant  away  up  in  the  sky  coming 


straight  up  the  river,  and  when  they  get  as  far  as 
that  mountain  on  the  left  they  will  turn  and  go 
directly  north.  I  have  often  wondered  why  they 
come  away  up  here  and  turn  instead  of  making  a 
diagonal  course,  which  would  be  much  shorter." 

"The  flight  of  ducks,  geese,  and  all  migratory 
birds,  Peter,  is  a  most  interesting  study.  The 
brant,  like  the  geese,  have  no  doubt  certain  moun- 
tains, lakes,  or  rivers  which  they  recognize  in  t li.-ir 
flight,  and  in  this  way  are  able  to  continue  onward 
to  their  homes  in  the  north.  Probably  the  moun- 
tain to  the  left  is  one  of  their  landmarks." 

"  Heck,  I  am  sorry  to  interrupt  this  interesting 
conversation,  but  there  are  two  salmon  jumping 
<>n  the  other  side  a  little  lower  down  in  the  pool 
than  where  you  killed  the  queen  this  morning. 
Perhaps  they  will  take  the  fly  now  —  I  advise  you 
to  start  at  once.91 

"  Are  you  not  going  f "  asked  Napoleon. 

"  Yes,  just  as  soon  as  Mixer  can  be  persuaded  to 
stop  eating.  In  his  gastronomic  feats  he  seems  to 
excel  all  the  canine  family.  But  I  would  rather 
lose  a  bit  of  fishing  than  deprive  the  little  fellow 
of  his  happiness.  You  will  have  to  pole  up  alone 
this  afternoon,  II*  k,  as  I  am  going  early  to  see 
Mrs  Davis  kill  a  salmon." 

"  Never  mind  me,"  replies  my  friend ;  "  I  shall 
not  be  lonely.  The  Silver  Queen  is  to  accompany 
me  in  the  twilight,  and  perhaps  two  or  three  of 

189 


her  maids  of  honor  will  condescend  to  grace  the 
canoe." 

"  I  hope  you  will  not  be  disappointed.  May  your 
vision  of  the  royal  court  not  turn  out  to  be  a  fairy- 
tale and  some  fair  goddess  change  them  into  slinks 
before  you  arrive  at  camp." 

"  Oh,  that  would  be  humiliating,"  replies  Napo- 
leon, smiling,  as  he  pushes  away  from  the  bank. 

"  What  a  delightful  afternoon  for  fishing,  James ! 
It  makes  one  feel  as  though  life  were  worth  living." 

"  It  does  now,  sir;  but  if  you  were  here  cutting 
logs  all  winter  you  would  n't  think  life  worth 
much  by  the  time  you  had  finished  in  the  spring. 
It  is  mighty  hard  work  and  little  joy  for  the  men 
with  big  families.  Hello  !  got  a  salmon  ont" 

"  Yes ;  he  took  the  fly  very  quietly  under  water. 
I  am  afraid  he  is  not  well  hooked." 

"  Whew,  what  a  jump !  Was  n't  that  glorious  ! 
There  he  goes  again !  Mr.  Heckscher  would  enjoy 
that." 

"  Indeed  he  would,  William.  Now  is  your  chance 
to  gaff  him.  That  is  too  bad  —  you  missed  the 
fish." 

"  He  turned  too  quickly,  sir ;  could  nt  do  it." 

"Here  he  comes  again;  now  you  try  him, 
James." 

"  He  has  gone ! "  I  cry ;  and,  with  a  flop  of  his  big 
tail,  the  bright  creature  turns  on  his  side  and  dis- 
appears beneath  the  swift,  dark  water. 

123 


"That  was  a  big  salmon,  sir;  sorry  you  lost 
him." 

"  We  cannot  save  them  all,  James,  you  know.* 

"I  know  that,  sir;  but  I  always  like  to  get 
first  fish  in  a  new  pool  —  it 's  lucky,  sir." 

44 1  have  had  enough  sport  to-day,  anyhow.  Let 
us  go  to  camp  now  and  take  our  traps  to  the 
house ;  then  we  can  pole  up  to  the  Judge's." 

As  we  pole  along,  frantic  gestures  are  made  by 
the  occupants  of  the  little  green  canoe  quietly 
anchored  in  the  shade  of  the  overhanging  trees. 
"What  is  the  matter,  James!" 

"  They  probably  have  seen  a  salmon,  sir,  and 
wish  us  to  keep  back." 

Holding  the  canoe,  we  await  results.  Presently 
the  cause  of  their  excitement  appears.  A  large 
fish  rises  near  the  shore,  and,  seizing  the  fly,  with 
a  big  plunge  starts  down  the  river.  "  Bravo ! "  we 
shout  as  their  canoe  goes  flying  past 

"  Hold  him  hard !"  I  «• 

At  the  head  of  the  rapids  the  salmon  suddenly 
turns,  and,  jumping  three  feet  into  the  air,  goes 
back  to  sulk  in  the  deep  water  of  the  pool.  The 
canoe  is  stop]"..],  tho  slack  line  reeled  in,  and  the 
little  cane-rod  bent  double  in  the  effort  to  start 
him  again  on  another  wild  race. 

"Lower  the  rod  and  pull  sideways,"  I  shout; 
"  you  may  be  able  to  move  him  that  way."  The 
little  trick  is  tried,  and  proves  too  successful,  for 

IM 


Two   DATS1    I-'!sm\(, 

Tbeae  Kiliimii  I.,-,  :<>rt\  tu<.; 


n-  kill<Nl  liv  Mr<.  Davi* 


the  salmon,  with  another  big  jump,  bids  us  fare- 
well and  darts  up-stream  to  his  freedom. 

"Oh,  he  has  gone  —  he  has  gone!"  cries  Mrs. 
Davis,  as  the  Silver  Doctor  comes  drifting  back. 
u  It  is  all  your  fault,  Ned,  telling  me  to  pull  side- 
ways. I  knew  it  would  twist  the  hook  out  of  his 
mouth.  And  he  was  such  a  large  fish!  Tim  said 
he  would  weigh  over  forty  pounds.  I  am  simply 
heart-broken." 

"Never  mind;  we  are  awfully  sorry  you  had 
such  bad  luck ;  but  James  says  if  you  had  used  one 
of  his  Silver  Grays  the  salmon  would  have  been 
more  eager  and  better  hooked." 

"  Tell  James  he  is  mistaken.  I  did  try  a  Silver 
Gray,  and  he  would  not  touch  it." 

"  What !  refused  the  Silver  Gray  T  » 

"Yes." 

"  Well,  then,  it  must  have  been  a  big  slink, 
James  says,  if  he  would  nt  take  his  fly ;  so  you 
had  better  not  worry  any  more." 

"  It  was  not  a  slink,  and  you  know  it." 

"Oh,  I  was  only  chaffing  you.  As  I  have 
brought  you  bad  luck,  perhaps  it  will  change  if  I 
go  back  to  the  house  for  a  little  rest." 

"You  need  not  do  that  on  my  account,  but  please 
never  again  tell  me  to  pull  sideways,  for  I  never 
shall." 

Mixer  and  I,  having  returned  to  camp,  are  soon 
awakened  from  our  doze  before  the  fireplace  by  the 

125 


return  of  the  happy  anglers,  and,  going  to  the 
door,  we  find  five  large  salmon  lying  in  front  of 
the  veranda. 

44  1  coaxed  one  maid  of  honor,  Ned,  and  also  a 
grand  old  courtier  to  accompany  me,"  said  Napo- 


"  Yes,  I  see  you  have  ;  but  what  an  odd  knight  !  " 

44  He  is  not  remarkably  good  to  look  at,  and  was 
evidently  barred  from  the  king's  court,11  replied 
Napoleon  ;  "  but  he  made  a  splendid  fight  for  his 
life." 

44  1  could  not  coax  any  more,"  remarked  Mrs. 
Davis,  "  although  one  little  fish  about  twenty-five 
pounds  did  make  a  feeble  attempt  to  come  to  the 
surface." 

"You  have  both  done  well,  considering  the 
height  of  the  water,  and  six  salmon  to-day  are 
enough.  What  do  yours  weigh,  I  l«-«-k  ?  " 

"Forty,  twenty-eight,  and  twenty-six  pounds; 
but  please  do  something  to  me  at  once,  so  that  I 
may  know  it  is  not  a  dream  ;  for  I  have  never  passed 
a  happier  day.  How  beautiful  they  are,  lying 
there  !  Is  it  any  wonder  we  all  love  the  grand 
sport  f  What  weight  are  your  fish,  Mrs.  Davis  f  * 
asked  Napoleon. 

41  Thirty-two  and  twenty-seven  pounds;  but  I 
lost  a  larger  one  than  your  forty-pounder  through 
Ned's  nonsense.19 

44  You  can  tell  Mr.  Heckscher  all  about  it  at 
126 


dinner ;  but  let  us  hasten  now  and  get  ready,  for 
it  is  late." 

Dinner  finished,  a  few  happy  thoughts  are  ex- 
changed in  the  fishing-room  around  a  cheerful 
fire,  and  our  angling  friend  again  takes  the  big 
red  candlestick  and  departs  for  the  night. 


127 


THE  THIRD  DAY 

(0  you  think  we  shall  equal  yesterday's 
score  f "  asked  Napoleon,  as  he  came 
in  from  a  short  walk  ready  for  break- 
fast. 

"  You  will  have  lots  of  water  to  try,"  I  replied, 
"  for  to-day  I  am  going  up  to  the  club,  so  you  and 
Mrs.  Davis  can  fish  all  the  pools.  I  doubt  if  you 
will  have  time  enough,  but  it  is  pleasant  to  know 
one  has  a  long  stretch.  I  must  be  off  now,  as  my 
men  will  be  there  by  the  time  I  arrive.  Am  sorry 
I  am  not  allowed  to  take  you  with  me,  Heck.9 

"  Do  not  trouble  yourself  about  me.  I  am  quite 
satisfied  here,  thanks.91 

Jumping  into  the  mud-stained  bnckboard,  with 
Edward  to  drive  the  old  white  mare,  we  are  scon 
rattling  over  a  fair  country  road  which  meanders 
a  short  distance  through  the  sweet-smelling  forest 

"  How  fragrant  the  air  is  this  morning,  Edward ! 
It  must  come  straight  from  heaven." 

"  Don't  know  much  about  that  place,  sir ;  but  it 
ought  to  be  good  if  it  comes  from  there.  It  is 
healthy,  though,  to  be  up  early  and  smell  the 

IL'S 


IA  CLUB-HOUSE  IN  nn.  I  • 


\voo<ls ;  there's  lots  of  healing  balm  in  those  cedars 
and  firs." 

••  1  suppose  you  know  the  names  of  all  the  trees 
and  bushes  up  here,  do  you  not  T  " 

"  I'retty  much,  sir;  you  soon  learn  them,  after 
you  *ve  chopped  awhile." 

"  There  is  the  club-house ! "  I  exclaim,  as  we  come 
in  sight  of  the  low,  flat  building  in  the  distance. 
"  What  a  pretty  picture  it  makes,  lying  close  to 
the  river  with  the  mountains  around  ! " 

"  Yes ;  a  fine  place  that,  sir." 

"  How  are  you,  Daniel  ?  Have  any  of  the  mem- 
bers arrived  I " 

"  Not  yet,  Mr.  Davis ;  you  are  the  first.  I  be- 
lieve Dr.  Mitchell  and  Mr.  Cadwallader  are  coming 
to-morrow." 

"Are  they!  I  am  glad  they  are  arriving  so 
early.  How  does  it  look  up  here  to-day,  James  T  " 

"  River  pretty  high,  sir;  don't  you  think  sot" 

"  Yes,  it  is  a  bit  high ;  but  we  must  manage  in 
some  way  to  have  the  canoe  a  little  heavier  when 
we  run  down  this  evening." 

"  We  '11  do  our  best,  sir." 

"Am  glad  to  see  you  back  again,  Mr.  Davis," 
calls  out  Berchavais,  the  head  guard  of  the  river, 
as  he  comes  down  to  the  bank. 

"Thanks,  Berchavais;  am  glad  to  see  you.  It 
does  not  seem  as  if  a  year  had  passed  since  we  were 
out  on  the  river." 

129 


"  I  suppose  it  does  go  by  much  quicker  with  you, 
sir,  than  with  us  up  here  in  the  woods.  Are  you 
going  to  try  the  tuua  this  year!  There  were  lots 
of  them  last  August  in  the  Gasp£  Bay.  If  you 
should  get  one  of  six  hundred  pounds  you  might 
enjoy  the  sport  more  than  salmon-fishing." 

44  Am  quite  sure  I  never  could  do  that,  Bercha- 
vais.  Mr.  Heckscher,  who  came  up  with  me,  has 
brought  a  tuna  outfit,  and  may  try  for  them,  but  I 
doubt  if  I  shall;  I  prefer  keeping  to  my  dear 
friends  the  salmon,  rather  than  forming  new  ac- 
quaintances who  might  make  me  trouble.  Have 
you  seen  any  salmon  in  the  pools  near  the  club- 
house T" 

"  Not  to-day,  sir;  but  yesterday  O'Neill  saw  two 
jump  in  the  Tent  Pool  and  one  at  the  lower  part 
of  the  Rock" 

44  That  is  good  news,  even  if  we  do  not  get  any." 

"  Oh,  but  I  think  you  will  have  some  sport  to- 
day." 

"  Let  us  start,  then,  James,  and  see  if  we  can  cap- 
ture some  of  these  newly  arrived  friends." 

In  an  hour's  time  the  Tent  has  been  thoroughly 
whipped,  and  two  fine  fish  —  twenty-nine  and 
twenty-six  pounds  —  are  left  in  the  icy  water,  tied 
to  an  aider  on  the  bank,  to  be  gathered  on  our  re- 
turn at  night  Both  sides  of  the  Rock  Pool  are 
now  tried,  and  away  down  on  the  right  a  thirty- 
one-pound  fish  is  killed. 

130 


"  The  river  is  too  high  for  good  fishing,  sir,"  re- 
marks James.  "  Tou  should  have  had  five  salmon 
by  this  time." 

\Voll,  two  more  will  satisfy  me." 

"  You  are  sure  to  get  them,  sir,"  says  William. 

"  If  I  do  I  will  make  you  a  present.  But  let  us 
lunch  before  we  try  again ;  I  was  up  early  this  morn- 
ing, and  am  greedy,  like  the  last  salmon  we  killed. 
Here 's  success  to  the  two  salmon,  William ! " 

The  little  flask  is  returned  to  the  luncheon-bas- 
ket, ami,  lighting  our  pipes,  we  again  start  out  for 
the  afternoon's  sport. 

"  James,  I  feel  that  a  quiet  smoke  and  seeing  you 
kill  a  salmon  would  be  more  restful  than  casting 
the  fly  so  soon  after  my  luncheon ;  the  water  is  not 
very  swift  here,  and  if  William  needs  any  assist- 
ance I  will  help  him  manage  the  canoe." 

"  All  right,  sir ;  I  would  like  to  try.  Have  n't 
killed  a  salmon  for  a  long  time." 

"  Here  is  the  rod,  then,  and  bring  back  a  big  one." 

"  I  rose  one,  sir;  think  I  '11  hook  him  next  time. 
Yes,  there  he  is  again.  He  's  got  it,  sir ! " 

A  big  plunge,  and  away  we  go  scudding  down 
the  river. 

"  This  is  fun,  is  n't  it,  William  t " 

"  Oh,  it 's  grand  sport ! " 

"  Lead  him  around  this  way,  James,  when  you 
get  a  chance,  and  I  will  gaff  him." 

"  That 's  it.    Pull  harder,  Mr.  Davis;  hell  slip 
131 


off  the  gaff.  Just  in  time,  sir,"  as  the  twenty-aeven- 
pound  salmon  tumbled  into  the  canoe. 

"  My  quiet  smoke  was  not  a  success,  for  I  have 
n't  seen  my  pipe  since  you  first  hooked  the  fish. 
One  more  salmon,  William,  and  you  win." 

"  No  doubt  of  that,  sir ;  just  below  that  tree  on 
the  right  there  is  one  waiting  for  me." 

Dropping  down  gently,  the  fly  is  drawn  slowly 
across  the  dark  eddy,  when  a  bright  streak  shoots 
forth,  and  we  soon  have  a  twenty-one-pound  sal- 
mon to  complete  the  score. 

"  William  wins,"  I  exclaim,  "  and  I  have  had 
enough  sport  for  to-day." 

The  day  is  finished,  the  pools  have  been  fished, 
and  five  salmon  lie  nestling  in  our  canoe  as  we 
head  the  little  cedar  toward  home.  Passing  the 
men's  cabin,  a  joyful  tune  is  heard  coming  from 
within,  showing  that  there  are  other  hearts  up  in 
the  wilderness  made  glad  at  the  coming  of  the 
anglers.  As  I  approach  the  landing  Mrs.  Davis 
and  Napoleon  are  gazing  at  three  large  salmon 
lying  on  the  bank.  "  How  many  f  "  they  both  ask 
as  they  come  toward  the  canoe. 

44  Five  — from  twenty-one  to  thirty-one  pounds. 
And  what  have  you  been  doing  T  " 

"Mrs.  Davis  has  killed  two  fine  fish,11  replies 
Napoleon,  "thirty-three  and  twenty-nine  pounds; 
and  I  one  of  twenty-eight" 

44  So  you  could  not  win  another  queen  to-day  T" 


"No,"  replied  Napoleon,  "I  almost  had  the  honor. 
Slielit'tr.l  IHT  beautiful  head  above  the  surface, but 
as  soon  as  she  saw  us  she  immediately  declined 
all  further  acquaintance." 

"  Perhaps  you  were  not  very  gallant." 

"Oh,  pardon  me,  I  was  most  gallant;  probably 
we  were  not  looked  upon  with  favor,  for  she  did 
not  seem  anxious  to  be  wooed." 

"  Wait  until  the  first  of  July  and  be  my  guest  at 
the  club,  aiid  then  I  will  show  you  salmon-fishing 
such  as  you  have  never  dreamed  of." 

"  You  are  very  kind,  but  I  am  afraid  I  shall  be 
obliged  to  go  home  before  that  time." 

"  Did  you  see  that  brilliant  meteor,  Mrs.  Davis, 
which  just  flashed  through  the  heavens?"  re- 
marked Napoleon,  as  we  strolled  toward  the 
house.  "  It  was  most  beautiful." 

"  No,  I  did  not;  I  was  watching  the  fireflies,  and 
wondering  for  what  purpose  they  are  in  the  world. 
What  strange  little  creatures  they  are !  " 

"  Meteors  and  fireflies  always  remind  me,"  I  re- 
marked, "  of  Thomas  Moore's  ballad, '  The  Lake  of 
the  Dismal  Swamp.'  Have  you  ever  read  it,  Heck  T  " 

"  No,  I  never  have." 

"  You  should  read  it,  Mr.  Heckscher ! "  exclaimed 
Mrs.  Davis.  "It  is  lovely;  only  I  fancy  your 
dreams  will  be  of  ghosts  and  goblins  rather  than 
of  roses." 

"What  is  it  about,  Ned!" 
133 


u  Do  you  really  wish  to  hear  T  *  I  asked. 

"  Yes ;  of  course  I  do,"  replied  Napoleon. 

"  The  story  is  about  a  young  man  who  became 
insane  when  he  heard  that  his  sweetheart  was  dead. 
Thinking  she  had  gone  to  the  Dismal  Swamp,  he 
followed  her  and  was  lost  I  have  always  remem- 
bered some  of  the  lines.  Here  are  a  few : 

'  They  made  her  a  grave,  too  cold  and  damp 

For  a  soul  so  warm  and  true ; 
And  she 's  gone  to  the  Lake  of  the  Dismal  Swamp, 
Where,  all  night  long,  by  a  firefly  lamp, 

She  paddles  her  white  canoe, 

1  And  her  firefly  lamp  I  soon  shall  see. 
And  her  paddle  I  soon  shall  hear.1 

These  are  all  I  know,  Heck,  except  the  last  three 
verses.  If  you  wish  to  hear  any  more,  and  are  not 
afraid  of  the  ghosts,  I  will  continue." 

"  It  is  not  very  amusing  to  be  cut  off  in  the 
midst  of  a  ballad,"  replies  my  friend,  "  is  it,  Mrs. 
lt» 

"  Oh,  I  do  not  know  why  Ned  wishes  to  memo- 
rize such  sad  and  doleful  lines!  He  is  always 
quoting  about  phantoms  just  at  this  time  of  night, 
\\lii«-h  is  enough  to  frighten  people  out  of  their 
wits.  You  may  recite  the  remaining  verses  to  Mr. 
Heckscher  if  you  wish,  but  7  am  going  in.  I  can- 
not hoar  anything  more  about  the  Dismal  Swamp 
to-night;  I  should  nt  sleep  a  wink." 


"Never  mind,  Hrrk  ;  I  will  tell  you  how  the  tale 
ended: 

1  He  saw  the  Lake,  and  a  meteor  bright 

Quick  o'er  its  surface  play'd  — 
"  Welcome,"  he  said,  "  my  dear  one's  light ! " 
And  the  dim  shore  echoed,  for  many  a  night, 

The  name  of  the  death-cold  maid : 

'  Till  he  hollowed  a  boat  of  the  birchen  bark, 

Which  carried  him  off  from  shore  j 
Far,  far  he  followed  the  meteor  spark, 
The  wind  was  high  and  the  clouds  were  dark, 
And  the  boat  returned  no  more. 

*  But  oft,  from  the  Indian  hunter's  camp, 

The  lover  and  maid  so  true 
Are  seen  at  the  hour  of  midnight  damp 
To  cross  the  Lake  by  a  firefly  lamp, 

And  paddle  their  white  canoe."9 

"  That  is  very  interesting ;  but  why  do  you  not 
learn  all  the  verses  ?  * 

"The  other  part  does  not  appeal  to  me;  but 
the  canoe,  the  hunter's  camp,  the  fireflies,  the  lake, 
all  remind  me  of  my  surroundings  and  are  asso- 
ciated with  my  life  in  the  woods.  Tom  Moore's 
works  are  in  the  house,  and  you. can  read  the  tale 
if  you  wish.  Now  let  us  go  in  as  it  is  time  for 
dinner." 

"Has  Ned  bored  you  with  his  ballad!"  asks 
Mrs.  Davis,  as  we  enter. 

135 


"  Oh,  no ;  I  quite  agree  with  you  it  is  lovely,  but 
I  sincerely  hope  the  Mover  and  maid'  will  not 
'  paddle  their  white  canoe '  across  Red  Camp  Pool 
to-night,  for  it  is  my  turn  to  fish  it  in  the  morning." 

"  What  splendid  sport  you  had  to-day  ! "  remarks 
Napoleon,  as  we  are  sitting  about  the  cozy  fire  in 
the  fishing-room  after  dinner,  puffing  the  soothing 
tobacco. 

"  Yes,  I  did  have  sport.  But,  do  you  know,  in 
fishing  the  killing  is  most  distasteful  to  me.  The 
part  I  like  is  to  see  the  salmon  rise  and  to  know  they 
are  hooked ;  after  that  I  do  not  really  enjoy  it,  for  I 
cannot  get  over  the  thought  that  it  seems  cruel  to 
torture  these  beautiful  creatures.  Tet  I  go  on  day 
after  day  killing  salmon,  with  that  unpleasant 
little  feeling  always  present" 

"  I  suppose,"  replies  my  friend,  "  most  anglers  do 
at  times  regret  taking  the  life  of  these  game  fish; 
but  as  they  are  good  for  food  and  probably  suffer 
no  great  bodily  pain,  wo  should  not  cultivate  the 
romantic  view." 

'  i'orhaps  that  is  true,  Heck;  but  it  is  hard  for 
me  not  to  do  so.  I  have  the  same  thought  about 
flowers:  I  love  to  see  them  growing,  to  inhale  their 
perfume;  but  to  pluck  them  and  have  them  wither 
and  die  makes  me  feel  as  though  a  sweet  life  had 
been  injured.  '  I  loved  the  rose,  and  left  it  on  its 
stem,'  says  Laudor." 

"It  does  not  seem  right,"  replies  Napoleon,  "  that 

136 


Kr.D  r\M!-  TOOL 

This    picture    r-h'>u-    m\     -"ii    ki..  :i    Bed 

i  have  erer 

liiu.n  jumping  «!  :•«  flah 

littl.-  whit<-  htn-iik  (                        lunik  <m  t 

:  tli«-  i»i«'tun-,  hut    in  iph  "f 

Mm-  it  in  a.-*  di.-tiiict  as  tli-  tin-  canoe. 


everything  boaut  if  ill  in  Nature  must  die;  but  it  has 
been  so  ordained,  and  it  is  best  not  to  think  about 
it,  for  it  only  makes  sadness." 

"To-morrow  will  be  Sunday  —  how  shall  we 
amuse  ourselves  t "  I  ask. 

"  Oh,  do  let  us  take  a  walk  up  White  Brook," 
exclaims  Mrs.  Davis,  "and  see  the  wild  flowers, 
and  the  wee  trout  in  those  lovely  clear  pools.  It  is 
perfect  up  there,  and  much  more  human  than  going 
after  bear  with  Peter  Coull." 

"  By  Jove  ! "  replied  Napoleon,  "  I  had  forgotten 
all  about  the  bear." 

"  Unless  you  permit  me  to  retire,  I  shall  not  be  up 
in  time  to  join  you  on  the  morrow  for  the  delight- 
ful little  trip ;  if  you  will  pardon  me,  I  will  take 
the  big  red  candlestick.  Bonne  nuit !  " 


137 


THE  FOURTH  DAY 

rOW  did  you  ever  discover  such  an 
interesting  spot  as  that  we  visited  to- 
day Tw  asked  Napoleon,  inhaling  his 
cigarette  on  the  veranda  after  onr 
early  Sunday  tea.  "  One  would  imagine  he  was 
beside  some  tumbling  brook  in  the  midst  of  the 
Rockies." 

It  is  a  rough  place  up  there,  is  it  notf  Ned 
and  I,  you  know,  in  our  Sunday  rambles  are  al- 
ways exploring  the  country  around  Red  Camp. 
Did  you  like  the  pretty  little  wild  flowers  I  It  is 
rather  early  for  a  great  variety,  but  the  mari- 
golds were  beautiful  and  looked  lovely  in  all  their 
golden  color.  I  am  sure  the  perfume  of  the  sweet- 
scented  Maiantkcmum  pleased  you.  And  you  must 
have  admired  the  peculiar  shade  of  the  twisted 
stalk,  and  the  Viola  blanda" 

"  They  were  all  so  beautiful  and  interesting,  Mrs. 
Davis,  that  I  shall  long  to  have  you  take  me  again 
to  the  enchanted  spot" 
44  Yes ;  later  perhaps  we  can  go,  and  it  will  then 

138 


be  even  more  interesting,  for  a  number  of  other 
varieties  will  In*  in  bloom,  and  we  can  see  the  yel- 
low butterflies  flitting  about  from  one  flower  to 
another,  inhaling  their  fragrance,  while  the  bees 
arc  pithrrintf  their  sw^ts." 

"  If  you  would  like  to  take  a  tramp,  Heck,  come 
with  me  some  day  and  hunt  the  showy  lady's-slip- 
per — the  most  beautiful  of  all  the  orchid  family 
—  and  the  mountain-laurel.  They  both  grow  in 
Maine,  so  I  suppose  they  must  be  up  here  some- 
where, although  I  have  never  seen  them." 

"When  you  find  out,  Ned,  that  they  exist  in 
Quebec,  I  will  then  gladly  go  with  you  in  quest  of 
the  prize." 

"  Do  you  believe  in  the  transmigration  of  souls, 
Napoleon  T  " 

"  No ;  of  course  I  do  not." 

"  Well,  if  ever  I  am  changed  into  a  flower  I  hope 
it  will  be  a  beautiful  white  niphetos." 

"  Why  T  "  asks  Mrs.  Davis. 

"  Because  it  is  my  favorite  flower,  and  inhaling 
its  fragrance  is  like  breathing  the  air  of  heaven.  I 
couM  not  live  long,  for  they  soon  wither  and  fade." 

"Oh,  I  should  prefer  the  everlasting,"  exclaims 
Mrs.  Davis,  laughing,  "  for  then  I  could  never  die ! 

*  Sweet  rose,  thy  root  is  ever  in  its  grave, 
And  thou  must  die/  " 

"Well,  if  some  fairy  should  will  that  I  must 
139 


exist  as  a  flower,"  says  Napoleon,  "  I  suppose  it 
would  probably  be  something  tall  and  dreadful, 
like  the  sunflower." 

"Do  you  know,  Heck,  that  sunflowers  are  al- 
ways much  admired  by  country  maids!" 

"  No  chaffing,  Ned  Oh,  I  have  had  a  charming 
day ! "  exclaims  Napoleon.  "  And  when  I  think 
how  the  little  trout  we  saw  were  darting  about  in 
those  clear  pools  my  mind  dwells  on  the  morrow, 
for  then  we  fish  again.  The  twilight  dews  are 
falling,  so  let  us  go  in." 


140 


THREE  WEEKS  LATER 

'HREE  weeks  have  passed,  and  many  a 
salmon  has  been  entered  in  the  score- 
book  at  Red  Camp.  Mr.  Heckscher 
has  killed  his  bear;  Mrs.  Davis,  a 
forty-four-pound  salmon :  and  now  the  little  party, 
standing  at  the  landing,  is  about  to  start  forth  on 
its  last  day's  sport  together,  for  Napoleon,  having 
decided  to  remain,  is  to  join  me  on  the  morrow  in 
the  club  fishing.  As  the  sky  is  bright  and  the 
breeze  fair,  we  are  all  up  early  for  our  morning's 
sport.  It  is  my  turn  to  fish  in  front  of  the  camp. 
Pushing  from  the  landing,  the  canoe  is  soon  rest- 
ing at  the  head  of  one  of  the  best  pools  on  the  river 
for  late  fishing. 

"  Hello  !  there 's  one  already,"  exclaims  James. 
"  Look  —  what  a  whirl !  Be  careful,  Mr.  Davis ; 
the  water  is  clear.  About  thirty  feet  will  reach 
him." 

Casting  toward  the  shore  until  the  thirty  feet 
are  out,  I  send  the  No.  3  double  Black  Dose 
straight  to  the  spot.  A  splash,  and  he  is  on. 

141 


44  How  splendidly  ho  took  the  fly ! "  exclaims 
James. 

"  Bravo !  bravo  ! »  shouts  William.  "  The  first 
cast  and  —  a  salmon  !* 

Up  and  down  stream,  across,  now  back  again, 
all  kinds  of  antics  does  he  kick  in  the  bright,  cool 
morning  until  we  have  him  lying  on  the  bank  —  a 
tlni  ty-three-pounder.  Paddling  out  again,  th<» 
kill  irk  is  dropped  in  about  the  same  place;  but 
although  we  see  a  large  fish  rise,  I  fail  to  lure 
him,  as  he  probably  prefers  to  continue  his  morn- 
ing slumber.  Drifting  a  short  distance  down- 
stream, a  few  casts  are  made  to  the  right,  when, 
suddenly,  something  enormous  rises  from  the  bot- 
tom, and,  as  it  disappears  beneath  the  surface,  the 
delicate  dark  leader  is  carefully  watched.  Gradu- 
ally it  begins  to  sink.  Now  the  hook  is  sent  home, 
for  I  know  the  fly  has  been  seized. 

44  Good  Lord,  what  a  salmon ! "  cry  the  men,  as 
his  broad  tail  strikes  the  water — a  forty-five- 
pounder  sure. 

44  Keep  the  canoe  as  it  is,  James,  until  you  know 
what  he  intends  to  do.  I  cannot  move  him. 
nmrk !  up-stream.  He  's  off!  Whew  I  a  run  of 
torty  yards  without  a  stop.  There  he  jumps  t 
Faster,  James ! w  I  cry.  "  He  is  among  the  rocks ! 
The  leader  will  surely  be  cut." 

44  Give  him  the  butt,  sir,  and  turn  him,  if  you 
can." 


II  AKIMM'V   Till.    Kl\  EB  GOD3  I>   WILLIAM 


The  rod  bends  and  "He  has  gone!*  I  cry.  "No, 
he  is  on ;  he  is  coming  back  !  *  Down  the  river  he 
rushes,  darting  across  the  current  and  disappearing 
to  sulk  in  thirty  feet  of  water. 

Dropping  below  the  fish,  we  cross  to  the  other 
side,  and,  paddling  up-stream,  hold  the  canoe  in 
readiness  beside  the  ledge. 

"  To  win  thy  smile  I  speed  from  shore  to  shore, 
While  Hope's  sweet  voice  is  heard  in  ev'ry  breeze.* 

"  He  can't  stand  that  strain  much  longer,  Mr. 
Davis." 

"  Nor  I,  either,  James.  Look  at  the  tip ;  it  is  three 
feet  under  water." 

"  Don't  let  up,  sir ;  he  will  soon  give  in.  Yes, 
there  he  comes  now ! " 

Slowly  the  rod  is  raised,  and,  looking  down  into 
the  depths  of  that  deep  pool,  I  see  a  bright  form 
boring  steadily  downward. 

"Now  he's  coming  up,  sir;  pull  a  little  harder." 

Gradually  the  huge  fish  comes  to  the  surface 
and,  with  a  tremendous  leap,  tries  for  the  current ; 
but  the  struggle  has  been  too  severe :  the  spark  of 
life  has  fled.  So,  gently  drawing  this  beautiful 
creature  toward  me,  I  thrill  with  joy  when  the 
river-goddess  finds  a  safe  resting-place  in  my 
canoe. 

"  Have  you  ever  seen  so  large  a  salmon,  James  ?  w 
143 


44  None  that  was  killed  with  a  fly,  sir  ;  but  my 
father  tolls  of  one  which  was  speared  many  years 
ago  weighing  over  sixty  pounds." 

"  Well,  let  us  go  to  the  house  now  and  see  if  this 
one  has  lived  luxuriously  ;  for  should  Dame  Fortune 
be  kind  and  bring  the  scale  down  to  the  fifty- 
pound  notch  my  ambition  in  life  will  be  fulfilled 
and  my  happiness  complete.  Lift  gently,  James 
—  forty-eight,  forty-nine,  fifty  pounds  I"  I  cry. 
"  Hurrah!  the  spring  marks  fifty,  and  the  fair 
one's  broad  dark  train  still  sweeps  the  ground." 

Then,  laying  her  upon  a  fern-covered  bier,  we 
tenderly  bear  her  to  the  dining-room  and  gaze 
with  admiration  and  regret  on  the  splendor  of  her 
raiment  and  symmetry  of  form.  Even  Mixer 
realizes  that  something  unusual  has  happened  as 
he  stands  in  the  awed  presence.  Presently  Mrs. 
Davis  and  Napoleon  come  in  for  breakfast,  each 
with  a  fine  big  fish  ;  but  at  the  sight  of  this  beau- 
tiful river-goddess  both  exclaim: 
*ed,  did  you  kill  that  salmon  T" 

44  Yes  ;  and  now,  after  trying  to  do  it  for  thirteen 
years,  I  wish  you  were  the  guilty  ones  instead  of 


This  fish  was  hooked  just  before  seven  o'clock 
and  landed  soon  after.  Its  weight,  at  the  Casca- 
pedia  station  several  hours  later,  was  fifty  and  one 
half  pounds. 

I  will  not  weary  my  readers  with  the  story  of  my 
144 


other  large  salmon,  taken  the  following  year.  It 
weighed  fifty-one  and  one  half  pounds  fifteen  hours 
after  it  had  been  killed.  The  salmon  was  hooked 
about  eight-thirty  o'clock  at  night,  but  owing  to 
the  lateness  of  the  hour  we  were  unable  to  gaff  the 
fish  until  a  few  minutes  after  nine. 

It  was  most  unfortunate  that  the  scales  in  camp 
were  not  heavy  enough  to  have  weighed  these  two 
large  salmon,  for  they  must  have  lost  two  pounds 
or  more  before  they  arrived  at  the  station. 

They  were  entered  in  the  score-book  as  weighing 
fifty-one  and  fifty-two  pounds. 


14.-) 


THE  CLUB  WATER 


much  wilder  the  scenery  is  up  here 
than  in  the  lower  part  of  the  river  !  " 
remarks  Napoleon,  as  we  pole  along 
in  Indian  fashion  on  oar  way  to  De 
Winton's,  one  of  the  most  treacherous  pools  on  the 
club  water,  owing  to  the  great  number  of  sharp 
rocks  just  below  the  surface,  like  pinnacles  on 
some  lofty  cathedral 

"  Yes,  it  is  wild  here,  and  that  is  the  reason  I 
love  to  fish  this  part  of  the  river.  Well  may  it  be 
called  the  *  Devil's  Trap,9  and  fortunate  indeed  is 
the  angler  who  can  boast  success  in  this  weird  spot 
Here  we  are,  Heck,  at  De  Winton's.  Jump  into 
my  boat  with  me,  and  we  will  sally  forth  to  win 
fresh  laurels.  Cast  now  toward  the  trees,  just 
where  the  rapids  commence,  and  as  soon  as  thou 
hookest  a  salmon,  pull  gently,  while  the  men,  with 
sockets  turned,  will  pole  to  the  foot  of  yonder 
ledge,  and  if  ail  goes  well  thy  fish  will  lead 

44  But  I  think  you  had  better  show  me  the  trick, 


for  I  have  never  seen  a  salmon  led  thirty  yards 
up-streani  when  first  hooked." 

"  With  pleasure,  if  you  like ;  but  should  he  re- 
verse the  situation  and  lead  us  a  merry  dance 
down  t  lie  ri  vor  through  the  '  Devil's  Lane/  hold  fast 
to  the  canoe  when  we  strike  the  rapids,  for  we  are 
loaded  heavily,  and  I  care  not  for  a  wetting  to-day." 

Away  goes  the  small  Black  Dose,  and,  falling 
lightly  on  the  ripple,  is  quickly  seized. 

"  Hurry  with  the  killick,  William ;  he  is  leading 
finely.  If  we  can  reach  the  ledge  there  will  be  no 
danger." 

"  How  wonderful  the  way  you  lead  him ! "  ex- 
claims Napoleon. 

"Do  not  breathe,  Heck;  he  may  turn  at  any 
moment.  Yes,  by  Jove,  he  is  getting  suspicious ! 
Take  the  paddle  quick,  James !  Yes,  I  thought  so ; 
there  he  goes.  Now  for  a  run." 

"  Are  you  all  right  f  "  I  ask,  as  I  observe  Napo- 
leon lying  on  his  stomach  across  the  thwart,  while 
I,  slipping  from  the  seat,  rest  upon  my  knees  as 
we  go  flying  down  the  rapids. 

"I  have  been  more  comfortable,"  replies  Napo- 
leon. "  Do  not  look  after  me ;  watch  the  salmon ! 
What  splendid  leaps  he  is  making !  Shall  we  save 
him  f  " 

"  I  think  so." 

Entering  the  second  rapids,  I  manage  to  turn  the 
fish  a  short  distance  down  the  run  ;  but  before  we 

147 


can  stop  the  canoe  the  salmon  has  passed  us  on  his 
way  up-stream,  rejoicing  in  having  severed  tin* 
leader. 

"Go,  then,"  I  cry,  "and  tell  thy  companions 
thou  didst  win  a  costly  leader  and  fine  feathers  at 
the  battle  of  De  Winton's." 

"  Oh,  what  a  shame ! "  exclaims  Napoleon.  "  How 
<li<l  it  happen!" 

"  Cut  by  one  of  the  little  devils  beneath,"  I  re- 
ply, "  which  go  rolling  along  during  the  freshet" 

Another  salmon  is  hooked  and  lost  in  the  same 
pool  Wearying  of  such  sport,  we  pull  up  traps 
and  proceed  leisurely  up  the  river  to  find  some 
shady  spot  where  we  may  enjoy  our  midday  meal 
and  recover  from  the  morning's  disappointment 

"  How  would  you  like  a  trout  for  luncheon  to- 
day, Napoleon  T" 

"  Nothing  you  could  give  me  would  please  me 
more ;  but  how  can  we  get  one  f " 

"  Easy  enough,"  I  replied.  "  Stand  on  the  edge 
of  yonder  ledge  and  cast  a  little  to  the  right  of  the 
eddy,  and  before  the  fire  with  which  we  shall  cook 
him  is  kindled  you  shall  pull  one  forth  which  shall 
surpass  in  size  *  twenty-one  inches  and  whose 
belly,'  like  Izaak  Walton's  trout,  *  shall  look  some 
part  of  it  as  yellow  as  a  marigold,  a  part  of  it  as 
white  as  a  lily.' " 

Napoleon  casts  and  quickly  lands  a  four-pounder. 
Did  I  not  tell  you?  What  would  good  Wal- 

148 


ton  have  said.  Heck,  if  he  could  have  known  such 
sport  as  this?  Many  more  of  this  same  size  could 
he  lay  before  him  simply  for  the  casting  on  this 
ledge,  and  then  indeed  might  his  song  in  praise 
of  angling  well  be  sung: 

1  Oh,  gallant  fisher  life, 
It  is  the  best  of  any  ; 
T  is  full  of  pleasure. 
Void  of  strife, 
And 't  is  beloved  of  many.' r 

"  Well,"  says  Napoleon,  "  Izaak's  trout  and  pike 
may  have  been  well  cooked  and  his  ale  well  brewed, 
but  the  savory  smell  of  this  four-pounder  under 
the  blue  sky,  with  a  slender  alder  for  the  gridiron, 
the  ledge  for  our  table,  the  rushing  river  for  our 
nectar,  is  more  to  my  liking  than  any  indoor  feast." 

"  Nothing  could  be  more  delightful  or  have  more 
charm  than  lunching  on  the  bank  of  this  swiftly 
running  stream.  But  do  you  not  think,  Heck,  that 
a  few  drops  of  this  old  Kentucky  would  improve 
the  river  a  bit  and  induce  you  to  give  us  some  of 
the  old  Elizabethan  stanzas  that  Walton  quotes  T " 

"  Here  are  two  of  them,"  replies  Napoleon,  "  but 
if  I  get  them  wrong  you  must  pardon  me. 

' "  Come  live  with  me,  and  be  my  love, 
And  we  will  all  the  pleasures  prove 
That  hills  and  valleys,  dales  and  fields, 
And  all  the  steepy  mountain  yields." 

L49 


If  all  the  world  and  love  were  young, 
And  truth  in  ev'ry  shepherd's  tongue, 
These  pretty  pleasures  might  me  move 
To  live  with  thee,  and  be  thy  love.*1  * 

"  Well  sung,  Heck.  Tou  have  amused  the  men 
as  well  as  me  —  they  are  all  looking  at  you  in 
admiration.  Now  let  us  go  down  to  the  Slide !  for 
the  evening's  fishing.9 

I  wa>  th.-re  at  twilight"  we  "stole, 
When  the  first  star  announced  the  night 
For"  those  "  who  claimed  our  inmost  soul," 
To  angle  "  by  that  soothing  light" 

Napoleon  has  taken  two  fish  —  twenty-nine  and 
twenty-four  pounds.  As  it  is  getting  quite  late, 
and  difficult  to  see  the  fly  when  it  alights  on  th<> 
pool,  he  asks  me  to  fish  the  last  drop.  I  put  on  a 
large  Silver  Gray  and  send  it  whisking  into  the 
darkness.  The  water  parts,  a  vision  of  tx 
appears,  a  silvery  salmon  leaps  forth,  the  sparkling 
drops  falling  from  his  body,  like  some  wild  ^ 
moving  across  the  water.  As  the  pale  moon  rose 
up  slowly  above  the  green  firs  on  the  mountain- 
side and  cast  its  beams  on  our  frail  little  craft 
floating  quietly  on  that  dark,  shadowy  pool,  we 
realized  the  grandeur  of  our  surroundings  and  th<> 
fascination  of  the  art. 

1  Where  part  of  a  cliff  had  fallen  and  slid  into  the  rirer. 


Tin:  SLIDE 


"Take  the  rod,  Heck,  and  play  th«  li>h." 

"No,  no,w  he  cried;  "I  am  perfectly  content 
Win  the  fight,  for  such  a  picture  will  never  appear 
again." 

As  we  go  rushing  down  the  stream  the  bright 
silvery  streak  shoots  forward  in  the  shade  of  the 
dark  mountain.  Up-stream  it  glistens,  bursting 
forth  in  the  bright  moonlight;  then  back  again  it 
speeds,  to  be  lost  as  suddenly  in  the  darkness. 
What  frantic  attempts  to  disappear !  But  at  last, 
wearying  of  its  efforts,  this  wonderful  wild  spirit 
is  finally  conquered,  and  lifting  a  thirty-six-pound 
salmon  into  the  canoe,  we  gaze  upon  its  beauty  in 
the  moonlit  pool. 

"  This  is  the  dream  of  salmon-fishing ! w  exclaims 
Napoleon,  as  we  paddle  toward  camp. 


151 


CONCLUSION 

WKKK  at  Middle  Camp  was  delight- 
fully spent  cruising  up  and  down  the 
river  in  the  company  of  my  friend 
Ever  ready  for  the  early  morning's 
fishing,  content  to  rest  during  the  heat  of  the  day, 
to  lunch  in  some  cool  place  on  the  bank,  and 
always  pleasant  and  kind  to  his  canoemen,  he  was 
the  type  of  a  true  angler.  With  what  joy  he  wel- 
comed the  words  of  the  canoemen,  "  Time  to  go 
fishing,  Mr.  Davis!"  Jumping  up  at  once  and 
lighting  a  cigarette, he  would  soon  have  us  drifting 
down-stream  toward  some  favorite  pool,  whore  in 
the  twilight  many  a  big  salmon  was  lit't«-«l  into  th<> 
canoe  as  we  heard  the  plaintive  melody  of  the  wh  1 1  ••- 
throated  sparrow  coming  from  the  dark  forest. 

But  all  joys  must  have  an  ending.  Bidding 
farewell  to  the  enchanted  spot,  we  enter  the  canoes 
for  a  ten-mile  run  down  the  river  to  Bed  Camp, 
where  Mrs.  Davis  joyfully  greets  us. 

Our  fishing  trip  is  over:  the  day  of  leaving  has 
arri\v«l.  As  the  train  rolls  up  to  bear  us  away, 
longing  eyes  are  turned  toward  the  distant 
mountains. 

in 


